


Shieldmaiden's Son

by KRMalana



Series: Norsekink meme Fills [8]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, BAMF!Hlaðagerðr, Because fuck you Odin, Child Abandonment, Community: norsekink, Gen, Magic, Mother-Son Relationship, Shieldmaidens, War, baby Loki
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-11
Updated: 2014-04-29
Packaged: 2018-01-15 09:21:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1299814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KRMalana/pseuds/KRMalana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fill for prompt on norse kinkmeme</p><p>Shieldmaiden and seidr user Hlaðagerðr was summoned to fight in the Asgard-Jotunheim War.  She did not do it for the right or the wrong on the either side, she did it to keep her fellow warriors safe.  Even if those same warriors mock and belittle her for her gender.  She is her own.  Besides, she was planning to leave to find her own peace anyways.  She just never planned to be bringing someone along with her.</p><p>But when Hlaðagerðr saw the little jotun infant abandoned, suffering, close to death, even she is not so cruel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Tags/relationships/such will be updated as the work progresses. 
> 
> Prompt: http://norsekink.livejournal.com/12950.html?thread=31956886#t31956886  
> "After Loki is left in the temple as a baby, someone else finds him before Odin (can be either a Jotun or Aesir). Either way they know magic, and manage to use one of the pathways between realms to take Loki and flee the battle to Earth, where he/she glamours them both to look human and fit in. 
> 
> They do not realize they've just stolen a prince, they believe the baby's parents had been killed in the battle and the baby was just forgotten about and would have died. They are honest with Loki all his life about what he is (as much as they know), and teach him magic (which he takes to instantly). He grows up loved and showered with attention on Earth (perhaps even a bit spoiled, though he is never taught to believe he is better than mortals). 
> 
> Then a villain comes to where they live, to cause destruction in their city/town. Loki's caretaker intervenes but the villain is powerful, and manages to kill her/him. Loki steps in and soundly dispatches the villain, before dropping down beside the only parent he has ever known to say goodbye. 
> 
> Then SHIELD shows up with its usual awesome timing to recruit him. 
> 
>  
> 
> +1 if Loki joins the Avengers just before Thor shows up, and is able to explain to the others what Thor is. Despite never seeing the other realms, Loki is extremely well read about them thanks to his caretaker. 
> 
> +10 Loki starts a relationship with one of the other Avengers, preferably not Thor. 
> 
> +1000 if Thor has heard stories of the missing Jotun prince all his life, and Loki is sort of legend in other realms. He figures out who Loki is because Loki doesn't mind using his Jotun appearance to better wield his frost powers during battle, when needed. 
> 
> +10,000 Loki insists he is not a prince when Thor tries to get him to come to Asgard with him, and does not wish to leave Earth. "
> 
>  
> 
> Hlaðagerðr will be more familiar as Lagertha, the shieldmaiden who was one of the wives of Ragnar Lodbrok. Lagethera is the Latinized version of Hlaðgerðr. I slightly changed the name for its meaning. (Hlað means "headdress" but Hlaða means "to weave" while gerðr means "protection". Making Hlaðagerðr "to weave protection)

Hlaðagerðr cast her keen eyes over the battlefield. She knew by its flow that the war was over even if the battle was not. Hefting her large shield she blocked the incoming blow of a jotun’s ice encased arm. Thrown back by his own momentum, she cut the hamstrings of the massive legs with the blade of her spear. Howling in pain the jotun fell with a weight that made the earth around them tremble. Without breaking her stride she walked up his chest and smote her spear into his heart. Her seidr surged to be sure of his death, but kept the magic overwhelming so he would feel no pain in the merciful death. She slid off the body, landing just in time before a warrior to save him from the icy shards that would have severed his head from his neck.

The warrior growled at the shieldmaiden and tried to knock her aside to continue on. Well, let the fool get himself killed. She wasn’t going risk protecting idiots while there were others that needed her. Hlaðagerðr felt tiny pinpricks just off her right temple. She looked down the line to see that her spell had deflected a volley of arrows that would have learned the young spearmen into pincushions. One of the young men, head so recently cradled in an unconscious bid to protect himself, looked in her direction and whooped in thanks. The shieldmaiden allowed herself a small smile. That was why she had cast the spells of protection over the little group, boys barely men dragged into this silly war. They weren’t old enough to have the prejudices against a woman on the battlefield.

Whispering the words under her breath she fired a blast of magic from her spear taking out the jotun archers. Of course war was the only time that Odin had use for the few shieldmaidens that remained. Tucked away, mocked for their talents and wishes. Why could they be like other, proper women? Perhaps the Allfather and the men of Asgard hoped they would simply disappear if they weren’t spoken of. But, of course, when war rang, the men always came to their doors begging for their assistance. Odin Allfather himself had come to the little house where she had contented herself after Ragnar had buggered off to marry some princess. For Hlaðagerðr was both shieldmaiden and strong in seidr.

She didn’t do it for Odin. She didn’t do it for the war; to triumph over the Jotun. Hlaðagerðr did it so her people wouldn’t be slaughtered by their own stupidity. She wished to protect and keep her fellows safe. Even if they never acknowledged it. The hoots and yells had been loud when she entered the army, the great shield of her mother on one arm and long auburn hair unbound. What was a woman doing here? It also didn’t help that her violet eyes betrayed the magic in her veins. They had tried to make her bind up her hair, to hide it under a helm with a full facial plate to mask her identity. How she had laughed! The stupid thing even had a little moustache worked into the metal. Why anyone would taste the time and metal to give it facial hair was beyond her. They had mocked her, leering that she must want to go into battle with no armor, breasts bared. That was also silly, since any bare flesh would be a beacon for the enemy to attack.

Then again, while they tried to attack that area or simply stared, she could pick them off.

Bashing her shield into a giantess’ kneecaps until they shattered, Hlaðagerðr could not help sharing a sad smile with the female jotun as she died. She had been a brave fellow too, wanting to protect her home that Asgard had invaded. She closed the giantess’ eyes in respect. Looking up, Hlaðagerðr found herself at the base of the Temple. It was the sacred place where Jotunheim housed the Casket of Ancient Winters. And, if she remembered correctly, housed the few magic users that Jotunheim produced. Odin was still a long ways off, battling Laufey-King if her magic told her right. There was no time to waste. There was no way she could risk another seidr practitioner to touch the army. They could lay waste to them like a knife to butter before Odin noticed. Hlaðagerðr silenced her steps as she searched through the Temple. The high ceilings and solid walls could easily echo her footsteps and alert any within. For all her searching she did not find any, but the shieldmaiden refused to let her guard down. The seidr users of the Jotun might have already all perished on the battlefield or fled yet such a guess could mean death.

Hlaðagerðr felt the Casket before she saw it. She could understand why the Jotun were making their last stand near the Temple. It was a powerful conduit of magic, said to have been passed down from Ymir and be the heart of the realm itself. If there were any practitioners they would have been here or hidden nearby to protect it. She had just begun to turn to search the shadows when she heard it. A shifting of movement over ice, a lonely whimper that trailed up into a short cry. The shieldmaiden slid swiftly around the pedestal, shield and spear at the ready, to find the source. What she found even made her slightly cynical heart skip a beat.

It was a baby. A little baby that could only a few days to a few hours if not newly born. His blue skin and ruby eyes revealed his jotun heritage, but he seemed impossibly small for one of their young. In fact, he was the size of an Asgardian or Asesir baby. He was abandoned at the base of the pedestal without even a blanket to swaddle him. Jotuns might not need blankets to protect them from the ice, but still… There was no evidence that anyone had been near him, no sign that he had been left with a protector. He actually looked a bit thin, she thought as she kneeled over him, with the area around his eyes dark from crying. He looked up at her, weak eyes focusing on her hair and tiny ears latching onto her breath. He let out a desperate wail and his tiny arms reached for her. In that cry she knew he had been abandoned here, suffering and left to die.

“Shh, shh little one. It’s ok. I have you.” Hlaðagerðr removed her cloak to wrap the baby in so the cold links of the chainmail across her chest wouldn’t bite into him. The baby desperately cuddled close. The wails climbed louder and she could feel his fear and pain. She laid her cheek across his bare head as she stroked his tiny body with her fingers. Her magic had begun to form a barrier to protect against the jotun’s frostbite when it stopped. Tiny tendrils of magic touched her own. Young. Instinctive. The two recognized each other, knowing the other was not a threat, before becoming a companionable hum beneath their skins. “Ah, so this is the fearsome jotun mage I was fearing,” Hlaðagerðr spoke to the child with a chuckle. The wails had trailed off into soft whimpers. A tiny fist clutched at the auburn waves of her hair and refused to let go.

Hlaðagerðr knew she could never let Odin or any of the army catch a single sight of the baby. With all the hatred and bloodlust running through them they would most likely kill the jotun newborn. If not that he would probably be abandoned to die as before or dragged back to Asgard as a slave. The more the shieldmaiden snuggled the baby close, the more her breath mingled with his, the more she saw. The futures, the lives ahead of him if Odin got a hold of him. One where he was constantly half in the world, needed but unwanted, where his children would be seen as monsters would be ripped from him. Another to be used as a pawn, to be lied to, where the lie would drive him mad. And still another where he struggled to right the wrongs others drove him to, even killing himself so another him would have a clean slate. Each was filled with pain and hopelessness. No. She would not allow that to happen, those potential self-fulfilling destinies that Odin would be too blind to see.

She had already been considering leaving before she had found him. To leave Asgard and get out of the clawing reaches of the men around her. She had heard whispers her father, now that her mother was dead, wanted to marry her off to some other fool since Ragnar was gone. Odin was a problem as well. The gleam in his eye when she agreed to battle. He probably would try to take her after the war, force her to the palace, like some harem girl despite his queen and newborn son. The shieldmaiden had already plan to ‘fall’ in battle, some sign of death but without a body, so she could slip away. Why not now and take the child with her? “What do you think? Want to come with me, despite the chances I’ll be a horrible mother since I have no practice?”

The baby boy only sighed softly. The sound of her voice and the feel of her touch had calmed him. Here he was safe. Here he was cared for. Hlaðagerðr swaddled her cloak around him and tucked him in her shield arm for the journey. If any managed to see them, the shield would hide the presence of the baby. Whispering the words in the air she traced the symbols in the air that would summon a pathway to her. It was too great of a risk to seek out the ones nearby as that would bring her within sight of the army. She opened in only big and long enough for her to crawl through, immediately releasing the spell behind her. The branch of Yggdrasil hummed beneath her feet as she stood. She would use the ancient pathways between realms to make their escape. Despite all the knowledge Odin claimed to have, he seemed to have forgotten them in favor of his precious Bifrost. Ah well. His oversight was her gain.

Her movements along the pathway lulled the child to sleep. His peace did not keep her from occasionally glancing at him to make sure he lived. She would need to thoroughly check his health once they arrived. Hlaðagerðr knew exactly where she was going to hide, and yet also knew exactly how to hide her tracks on the off chance Odin did come through here. The shieldmaiden had begun to turn on the branch to Vanaheim when Ratatosk scurried past on the trunk of the tree. She winked at her friend, her chirped in greeting before continuing down to deliver the insult to the dragon. Once he was gone, she used her spear to rip off a large chunk of Yggdrasil’s bark. The Tree understood her need for it and readily gifted it to her. Task done, Hlaðagerðr doubled back and swiftly made her way down the pathway to Midgard. Her actions were twofold. Both Ratatosk and the missing bark would lead to the belief that she had traveled to Vanaheim. She had friends there and Odin knew the Vanir would gladly accept a magic user seeking asylum from their ancient enemy. She also knew that he planned to withdraw from Midgard since the presence of Aesir and Jotun were detrimental to the development of the ‘lowly humans’.

So Midgard it would be then.


	2. Sapling

The Midgard she steps into is nothing like the one she had seen coming to protect with the army. While that Midgard had been young, quiet with only smaller populations, this was far more chaotic. There are people, buildings, things, everywhere. Simply glancing around let her know that it was a different time. A time far in the future of Midgard where the people and technology had advanced. Hlaðagerðr remained still with her shield arm pressed against her body to keep the baby hidden as she watched. Her magic quickly sorted out the language which allowed her to hear and observe.

“Hey sweet costume!” Someone waved as they passed. “Is the Fair in town again?” Another wondered. Most didn’t even notice her. They were too wrapped up in their own little worlds. The shieldmaiden quietly slipped down a narrow passage between two buildings where she could be out of sight. Her mind raced as she planned. So she had arrived on Midgard as intended, just not the time period she had expected. However, the turn was both good and bad. The bad was that she would be out of place and did not know this world… The good, however, was that she could learn, and that Odin would be thinking to find her in a place she was familiar with…

She cursed under her breath. What to do? Now that she knew she needed to factor in the time while traveling the ancient pathways she could travel wherever she wanted. But was that a chance she needed to risk? Hlaðagerðr looked down at the little jotun newborn dozing in her arm. She didn’t know anything about raising a child either. And to risk failing to fit in this time atop of having to learn to care for him. No. She couldn’t risk it.

It didn’t mean that once she was confident she wouldn’t return here. Yes… why not? Learn how to care for a child. Plant the seeds that would allow them to hide and live in the past, and reap them in the future. That way she could more easily hide the little boy. Making sure that she was still unseen, she traced the magic on the opposing paintmarked wall to use the pathway again. It was only a moment. A step onto Yggdrasil, switching to a neighboring smaller branch, and slipping back out. Like a gust of wind. Unseen. Of unknown origin and destination.

~*~*~

“What do you mean Hlaðagerðr is MISSING!?” Odin shouted as he slammed his fist on the table. His generals and advisors flinched at his anger. The army had just returned to Asgard. The task of regrouping the living and counting the dead had only just begun. They had triumphed over Jotunheim of course. Defeated Laufey in combat and taken the Casket. But the victory was not falling into place as the Allfather had wanted.

“My King, I last saw her going into the jotuns Temple after taking out the archers picking off our men.” The general might have once bitten his tongue to give such words for a woman. He did not now. That single shieldmaiden had protected his entire regiment between her spells and taking out the archers when no one else could reach them. Those men could now return home to their families.

The news was not a surprise. The _seiðkonur_ was sharp. It was why Odin had sought her out for the war. She knew as he did that the jotun often housed their own magic users in the Temple along with the Casket. She would have entered the Temple to make sure none of them remained alive. Damn. If she had been killed Odin had just lost one of his greatest weapons. “And when you searched the Temple? No body, no signs of battle?”

“None, My King. No trace of her…”

Odin cursed under his breath. He resisted the urge to rub at the skin of his wounded eye. Why did Hlaðagerðr not simply listen and obey? Now he would have to go through the trouble of finding her. He hoped she had simply gone home ahead of the army… His gut told him otherwise. He knew that she had disappeared on purpose. Without giving any sign or raising her voice against him, the shieldmaiden must have suspected his plans for after the battle.

“Allfather,” another spoke up. “There is more.”

“More? What more could there be?”

“Laufey, sire. He has demanded that you return his son. That he was not part of any bargain, and are a monster to take him.”

“WHAT!?”

The messenger threw up his arms defensively as the king turned to him. “I am simply repeating the message. He claims that his newborn son was sent away from the palace to protect him and now that he is missing. He roars day and night that you have him.”

The Allfather gave in and rubbed at his forehead. Things had just become a nightmare. Laufey had a child? A newborn nonetheless? He had not seen any sign of a newborn on the battlefield. That did not mean, however, that one of his soldiers had not. Locking the Jotuns in their realm and taking the Casket was a fitting punishment for what they had done. But appearing to kidnap their prince was going overboard, even if they were innocent. Other realms would see the missing prince as evidence of Asgard domination and cruelty. They might even turn against them.

“Send word to Laufey that I personally saw no evidence of his child. However, I will personally search among the army to see if any man had something to do with it. Question the men and obtain the truth. Did they see, and even kill, a newborn on the battlefield?” The strength seemed to drain out of him. He dismissed them with a wave before they could see any further weakness. At any other time he would have dismissed the claim as Laufey trying any strategy to gain something for Jotunheim. But the news of the missing child explained many things, namely how weak Laufey had been in battle.

“Odin?” The king looked up at the gentle voice. His wife and queen, Frigga, stood close bouncing their young son in her arms. Though it had been a few weeks since Thor’s birth, she was still recovering. It had been a long and difficult labor. As much as the healers tried to reassure them he knew they would never have another child. That was why Hlaðagerðr was so desperately needed. Any child between the shieldmaiden and himself would no doubt inherit her powerful seidr and his strength. He would make her a concubine and give the child to Frigga to raise. “What troubles you?”

The good eye studied her and the child for a moment. Thor’s bright blue eyes saw that his father looked on him. With a cheery laugh his thumb popped out of his mouth and the tiny hands reached out for him. “Nothing I won’t be able to fix,” he said as he left, leaving a wondering wife and softly whimpering child behind him.

~*~*~

Hlaðagerðr settled beneath the overhang as her spells settled on the cave. Spells of concealment from Heimdall’s gaze, and to keep the cave warm and dry from the rain outside. A safe place to think and take stock of the situation. She removed her armor, the guards on her arms and shins along with the chainmail across her torso. Nothing needed repair except for a few chips and dents on her shield. Yet against all the blows it had suffered it had served her well. She had just set it to the floor when the newborn began to awake, whimpering and curling in on himself. Gathering him up she nested him in her cross legs so she could examine him.

“Just checking on you,” she spoke as she undid the swaddling. Diapers would be needed. Nothing had happened yet, but it would. Ruby eyes became watery despite how they never left her face. Hlaðagerðr rubbed his tiny feet with her thumbs as she tried smiling down at him. They were well formed, five toes on each. “I’m still here. And my, aren’t your feet so pudgy?” That was a good sign. He was underweight but not dangerously so. There weren’t any marks on his dark blue skin except the lines all jotun seemed to have. On his back, however, were scratches and the beginning of sores where he had been laid too long against the floor. Healing was not one of her stronger magics but she could help him here at least.

She snuggled him against her shoulder so the weight would not be on his back. Hlaðagerðr laid her hand gently over it and marveled for a moment just how it almost covered his back. She could actually feel him relaxing against her as the healing spell began to do what it could. He actually started to coo. Little soft sounds against her neck. Were all babies this way, this instinctual? Once the spell was complete she carefully turned him over to check if the spell had done its work. “There. That must feel better now. Forgive me for not seeing it before…”

The ruby eyes only watched her as she tucked him back in the crook of her arm. Did he understand her? Or was she only just speaking aloud to herself? She never really had anyone to talk to. Ah well. Now was not the time to dwell on such things. She had work to do. But as Hlaðagerðr reached for the bark she had taken from Yggdrasil she felt something pinch on her breast. Had he just bit her!? Looking down she saw him nuzzling against her, mouth trying to work against her dress. “Whoa, whoa!” She held him out at arm’s length. “You can’t do that. It won’t feed you. They don’t work.”

The newborn began to whine. His mouth kept working as if trying to nurse. His limbs curled closer to his body as he dangled. She felt her heart sink as the tiny face began to crumble. Cursing under her breath she tucked him back in her arm and offered him one of her fingers. He eagerly began sucking on it, tiny hands curling around her larger one. Damn. She should have thought about acquiring food for him before doing anything else. There were spells to help a non- or low-producing woman make milk but it would take time to take effect. Was she even comfortable nursing him from her own body? Violet looked into ruby as she thought.

Rising to her feet Hlaðagerðr walked to the edge of the cave. Squinting out into the rain she could just make out the white fur of the sheltering mountain goats she had spotted earlier. There had to be a nursing mother among them. She carefully wove a summoning spell, something simple that would cause the goat’s fear to fall away enough that she would come to the cave on her own. The mother goat did, if catiously, a little kid toddling over the rocks behind her. “I need your milk,” Hlaðagerðr explained. She crouched in front of the goat and presented the newborn. “Just a little. My baby needs something to eat until I can get some elsewhere. Your own child will still have plenty.” The she goat took a step closer and pressed her muzzle close to smell the baby. He sighed away from her as far as he could pressing deeper into the shieldmaiden’s arms. Hlaðagerðr had heard the stories, as anyone who lived in the Nine Realms, how the first Jotun had been feed. Ymir had suckled on the milk of a great cow while she, apparently, licked the first Aesir from salt. However true or false the latter part may be she actually felt a bit uncomfortable just sticking the newborn underneath to her udder to suckle. It was difficult to milk with one hand, but she managed to fill the little bowl she carried in her supplies. She thanked the she-goat and assured her that her kid would make a fine billy one day.

The newborn soon got the hang of sucking the milk off of the clean kerchief she always had tucked up her sleeve. She soaked the corner of the kerchief in the milk before presenting it to him. He was both hungry and thirsty. With the newborn distracted Hlaðagerðr was comfortable enough to return to her work. Removing one of her knives from her boot she carefully worked at scrapping the top layer of bark off the piece she had taken from the World Tree. Hidden away, tucked within the folds of the bark, were the tiny seeds of the Great Tree. There odd location and miniscule size where the Tree’s way of protecting them. But if one knew where to find them, and how to grow them, they would grow into ordinary appearing ash trees that held immense power in their wood. She teased as many seeds as she could find from the bark and tucked them into a pouch for later.

She tried to leave the newborn tucked up against her crossed legs to begin scrapping the underside of the bark when the child protested. He had finished eating and had been beginning to fall asleep. Now he began to whimper, then cry as he reached for her hands. Just like a boy. So demanding. Yet as she set her work down she knew she wasn’t annoyed by him. He calmed immediately once she touch had returned. Though she had healed his physical wounds and began to take care of his body, there were other scars. Ones either in his heart or mind that craved physical contact. He needed to know that someone was near. That someone was caring for him. Even if his mind wasn’t developed enough to understand or put the concept in words, he feared being abandoned once more.

“You need a name. I can’t keep thinking of you as him, newborn, or jotun child. Names are important.” As she laid back to sleep she snuggled him on her chest. She wrapped her cloak around them both even though the newborn had no need for warmth. A thick lock of her auburn hair was quickly caught in his fist as tiny eyes blinked slowly. “Well, some names can be. It shouldn’t shape your life. But you should shape your life that, if people know your name, they know what type of person you are. My mother named me ‘to weave protection’, to remind me that there are people in the world that we must always protect. I wonder if she knew that one day I would be protecting you…”

The baby turned his head to look at her. “I know I know. That might be a silly idea. Then again, who knows, she might have.” She stroked his smooth head as he listened to her voice through the tiny ear pressed to her chestbone. What color hair would he have, she wondered. Would he have any hair at all? “It probably won’t be very much. I can tell you now I’ll make mistakes and grow frustrated with myself, question my actions when I’ve hardly ever even been around children. But… you will forgive me… won’t you? I promise to protect, love, and raise you the very best that I can. Loki…” The name appeared from nowhere. Popping in her mind it had seemed so right that it had slipped to her tongue. The newborn gave a happy sigh before he drifted off into sleep knowing his mother had him. “Loki it is going to be then. My tiny, sweet baby Loki.” She tucked him in the cloak at her side once his sleep was deep, curling around him protectively. Her shield and spear were within reach and spells woven across the entrance to the cave. Woe be to anyone who even considered the idea of coming in to wrench the newborn from her.

Loki was her son now.

~*~*~

They left the cave in the morning leaving no trace that they had been there. She cut a corner off her long cloak and created a makeshift pouch. She tucked spells within that allowed it to carry vastly greater amounts than its size should. In went the seeds and bark of Yggdrasil as well as her armor. Her shield she slung across her back and the blade of her spear she spelled to appear invisible. The final spell she cast was intricately woven, each thread knitted that it would stay in place until she, and only she dispelled it. To any outsider Loki would appear a human child, with rosy skin and eyes a natural color. Her own appearance did not need to change much and the one part that did she never could completely hide even on Asgard. Her violet eyes lightened until they appeared a grey-violet so one had to truly look to see their unnatural color.

Loki was bright and awake in her arms as they traveled. It was an amazing transformation care and food had produced in the child. He still demanded her touch, an arm wrapped around him or a hand on his belly. A lock of hair never left his hand. As they traveled Hlaðagerðr spoke to the child. Her helped her ignore the growing itch and pressure in her breasts as the spells to produce milk began working. She told him the tale that every child heard when they entered the world, the birth of Yggdrasil and the creation of the Nine Realms. She told him all she knew of Jotunheim, the land of his birth. She told him of Asgard, of the bits of good she had seen and experienced. She would not deny either of their heritages despite the fact she would never step foot back in Asgard. When sparks appeared above the baby’s head, tiny bits of magic trying to make snowflakes, she spoke to him of magic. Hlaðagerðr could not even begin to keep the excitement from her voice. And Loki heard it. She set the sparks fluttering into delicate ice butterflies that flew about his head.

Her steps were not the simple steps of walking. Her steps were the ones of magic that covered many leagues in a single stride. She searched out places where she could comfortably raise a jotun child. Later she would learn what her chosen places were called. Greenland. Nunavut. Hokkaido. Both Lapland and Karelia of Finland. There were others, all near the mountains or with a colder climate. Even one on an island in the tropics called Hawaii. Loki would ask later as a young child, playing in the snow looking down at the surfers, why one of their homes was on an island. And she always answered that who would think to find snow on a sunny island in the tropics? Each and every spot she carefully planted a seed of the Tree. When it came to choosing a place and time to raise Loki, Hlaðagerðr would be ready.

A place for him to live and grow. Skills to protect and teach him. The chance to learn along with him. There was not much more for Hlaðagerðr to lay in place to provide for his future. Except for one thing. And for that, she needed to visit a certain wolf…


	3. Wolf Sword

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hlaðagerðr proves just how far she will go to keep her son Loki safe

The Fell Wolf knew the moment someone stepped on his island. No one ever came here, save for the birds that flew overheard. He remained still, knowing he would blend in to the rocks unless their eyes were keen. The saliva fell heavily from his mouth at the thought of eating them. How long had he been trapped here by the Aesir? How long had it been that famine numbed his belly? He would crush their bones, roll in their blood, and swallow them whole after working them past the sword in his mouth.

The moment he saw her, Fenrir cursed. The curse came out as a growl of warning. The woman barely raised an eyebrow or broke her stride. He did not know her; he did not know her scent or appearance. A warrior and seidr user both. This would not have stopped him. It was the scent of milk around her, from her breasts and on the mouth of the child, that stopped him. She carried a newborn in her arm, little more than a pup. Fenrir was a Wolf. But he wasn’t a monster. Every creature knew the law that a nursing mother with young should not be touched, as it would condemn the young who needed milk to die.

 _“What do you want, woman of Asgard?”_ Fenrir growled. It hissed past the sword that forced his mouth open. If he relaxed at all it would drive the weapon into his brain. And he would not let that happen. Not before he consumed Odin, the man who caused his suffering. The words rang instead in her mind.

“No longer of Asgard.” She answered. “I am Hlaðagerðr, and I am my own.” The newborn in her arm let out a giggle. He kicked his legs as his red eyes fell on the wolf. So young, he had no fear of the creature. He gummed the fingers on one hand while the other reached towards the wolf. She bounced the child to amuse him. “And now his mother.”

Fenrir looked between the two. She was clearly originally from Asgard. And the blue skinned baby boy was a jotun. But the smell of milk and the way she held him protectively let him know he was hers. Interesting. And why, pray tell, did she no longer claim the High Realm as her own? “ _What does any of this have to do with me?_ ”

“Because it is my duty to keep my son safe. From a common enemy both you and I share.”

“ _The Allfather. Odin_.”

Hlaðagerðr gave a small nod. Fenrir grinned a wicked grin. “While it is not within my power to free you, I can offer you something else. I can take away your pain. With that gone you can focus your time and rage on your destiny. I only ask for the sword in your mouth.”

“The sword?” Out of everything, Fenrir was not expecting it. The sword was only to keep his mouth in check. It didn’t even have a name. From the lake to the island, from the fetter to the collar, from the two rocks that anchored it. All had names.

The woman gave a slow smile. “A weapon soaked in the blood and rage of the one I fear? The one prophecies say will be my end? Odin was a fool to leave it with you. So, I ask you, Fenrir. May I have it?”

Fenrir answered with his own feral smile. “ _If you will, take it from my mouth_.” Hlaðagerðr drew close. She tucked the baby in the arm away from him. The jotun newborn watched with hands tight in her auburn hair as she leaned into the wolf’s mouth and grasped the hilt. It took a moment to wiggle the tip from where it had grown into the roof of Fenrir’s mouth. When it was free the wolf had a wild thought to snap his mouth of her head, just as he had done to Tyr’s hand. The Betrayer. But she kept her word, so he kept his word and the law of the wild. With a series of cracks he closed his aching mouth for the first time in centuries. His tongue licked at the wound at the roof of his mouth.

“Shall I try healing it? I am not very strong in the healing arts, but it would help it start.” The offer from the woman was genuine. Fenrir could hear it. He shook his head. It rolled down his body as he shook his fur. Dust and dirt, boulders and trees shook from it. “ _No. It will take it’s own time. But I would see your pup, this one you would fight Odin himself for._ ” He pressed his great nose near the child’s belly. So great was the wolf’s size he could have sucked the newborn up his nostril. The boy smelled of ice and milk, and magic like Hlaðagerðr running beneath his skin. The boy made a coo of wonder and with a happy cry patted his tiny hands against the tickling nose. Fenrir could not smell anything in particular on him, and yet…

“Take the sword and your pup, strong mother. I like the smell of you two. If you wish, I permit you and the pup to visit again. It is rather lonely here…” The wolf smile appeared again. “If you do I might be able to promise to look the other way when I and my children lay waste to the realms~”

~*~*~

Hlaðagerðr actions were precise and certain. When she stepped back into Midgard it was far from the time that Odin would think to check. For the moment she chose the place in the Laplands of Finland. The seed she had planted in the past had grown into a great ash tree with a thick trunk and wide branches. With the sapling from Yggdrasil it was easy to sing a home for her and Loki from it. To anyone it appeared like the houses of any of their distant neighbours built underneath the tree. They wouldn’t be able to see how the house continued into the tree itself into a massive complex of rooms and storage.

By now the milk was flowing in her breasts. It did take a while to get used to the sensation, to the feel of Loki cuddling against her to nurse. He always seemed to watch her as he suckled. Red eyes bright with intelligence that looked into hers. His little hands clutching at her hand or dress. Growing up, with the men of Asgard trying to force her into the roll, she had sworn never to have her own children. To never allow a man to force her to be anything other than a shieldmaiden and a wielder of magic. Not unless she chose to do so. But here, with Loki, she had been allowed to choose. And if she did not feel like nursing him at a meal she used the wonderful little invention of a baby bottle field with goats milk from the little herd she kept. Yet, she had to admit, she enjoyed holding him close as he nursed. Or burping him after a meal. Or even when he was awake or asleep.

Because, Hlaðagerðr could do little else but admit, she had fallen in love with precious little Loki.

That was why she did all the things she could to protect him. She harvested the oldest branches from their tree. Out of some she carved his cradle that would be expanded later into his bed. Images from the realms were carved into it’s sides. Above the cradle she hung her own shield. And beneath it she tucked the sword, the Odinbane, its blade stained red with Fenrir’s blood. She would love to see Odin or anyone else try to take the child from her. She would defend him with magic, sword, and shield. The rest of the wood she carefully carved into a loom. It was the one truly womanly skill she knew. It had been taught to her by her mother and it was something she truly enjoyed. Because her mother had taught her skills beyond weaving cloth. It was why she had named Hlaðagerðr such; to ‘weave protection’.

Hlaðagerðr performed the ritual when Loki was a few days old. She gave him a bath in water melted down from the fresh snow outside. He kicked and splashed at the water, enjoying the new wonder as she gently cleaned him. She tucked him in a towel, chuckling down at him as she washed her own hair. He was starting to get this wisps of hair now, black in color. The shieldmaiden held Loki upright in her lap as she spread her auburn hair before the fire to dry. “What are you smiling at now, hmm? Do you like my hair all smooshed down?” He only grinned toothlessly back. Loki was much happier than the afraid and lonely newborn she had found at the Temple. By the time her hair was thoroughly dry Loki had drifted off for a nap. She tucked him in the newly finished cradle, his little limbs twitching in sleep, singing gentle song over him. As she sang she worked at her great waves of hair. Every tiny knot and snag removed, rough ends trimmed away. She brushed the auburn strands until they shone like silk, each and every strand free. From her position on the stool next to Loki’s cradle it fell from her head to the floor. Now ready, Hlaðagerðr grasped the sword from beneath the cradle of her child, testing its edges to make sure it had never been used.

Then Hlaðagerðr raised the sword and shorn her hair as short of she could.

It was a practice passed down from the very first seiðkonur, the first women with magic in their veins. Throughout their lives the magic a man or woman possessed needed places to store itself. They were strong or trained they could keep it within themselves. At other times the seidr user found the need to store excess magic within outside objects, like jewels or a familiar. One natural place where magic strangely stored itself was within a person’s hair, especially if it had not been caught since birth. It was a practice that many Asgardian women followed without knowing the origin or reason why. A girl’s hair was allowed to grow from birth and remain uncut. It was only upon the birth of their firstborn that women would cut their hair and weave it into the first clothes or blanket for the baby. For the ordinary woman it was a warm gesture, and created its own magic since the hair held a lifetime of protection and love.

For someone such as Hlaðagerðr it was even more powerful. Every strand of hair held raw stores of her magic. And the moment it had been cut was the when her heart swelled with love for her child. She would then take the great auburn mass and weave it into anything Loki would need. Clothes. Blankets. It could sense when harm might approach him and transform into something to protect him. It could be woven into braids to tuck around the hilt of a weapon, the design of a shield, or melted into his armor. It would protect him even while she wasn’t there. She was sure to take out the longest lock and braid it into a long strand. She would hang it over her shoulder to give Loki something to grasp while he nursed. She hoped he wouldn’t be too upset with he awoke to find her long hair gone. Laying a kiss on the tiny sapphire forehead, she sat down at her loom to begin weaving strands of the hair into his first blanket.

~*~*~

She made mistakes. There were sleepless nights and grumpy days. Loki needed more attention than the average baby due to his abandonment. If she felt him alone too along, especially if she left the room for a moment, he would grow frightened. The ruby eyes filled with tears and the screams would begin. It was a terrified sound. And easily identifiable from sounds of being hungry or tired. Some humans said in books they written that babies should not be pampered to their cries. That babies should be left alone and cry out whatever bothered them. Not her baby; not her Loki. It would have hurt him and made whatever fear had instilled itself instinctively worse. Hlaðagerðr would tuck him in her arms or with his little head under her chin. She would gently rock or bounce him up and down. Every time, she made sure to talk or sing to him. Even simply letting him lay his ear over her heart calmed him down.

Beyond that, Loki was a bright and happy baby. The little eyes always watched everything around him. He would look into her violet eyes. He would watch her mouth as she talked to him. His tiny fingers touched whatever she presented him to study… or whatever he could reach. Hlaðagerðr knew she would have to ‘babyproof’ the house, as humans put it, once he was old enough to crawl. Loki would grab whatever as in reach before presenting it to her, waiting until she explained to him what it was. Not the least of all their magic. It was a comfort to the shieldmaiden herself to be able to use her powers so freely. From the magic used to create their home, to everyday tasks, to providing for the both of them. She would teach him how to use and control the magic flowing within him when he was old enough, but she shared it with him even now. She would snuggle him in her lap, propping him safely against her belly, and rest his little hands on the back of hers while she showed the magic between them. That would allow him to know what it was like to feel and see magic close by.

It would take Hlaðagerðr months to admit she loved the little patterns her life had fallen into. The peace and contentment was something she had never thought possible. And it was all thanks to the precious, little, sapphire blue baby boy that was now her whole world. She was, of course, vigilant of the worlds outside her own. Life and people were not things that could be ignored. What life could she offer Loki if she locked them both away from the wonders that could be found in the world? And in the same breath, how could she protect them if she assumed danger would never find them?

Well, not always danger.

She had taken Loki out for a walk. A snow storm had blown in the night before and laid fresh powder over the landscape. Bundling herself up, she had tucked Loki in just his diapers into a sling that went from one shoulder to the opposite waist. He turned his face eagerly to take in the white world. Even the sound of the snow crunching under her boots was a wonder to him. Hands nearby in case the experience was too much for him, she let him sit and lay down in the snow. One drift was deeper than she thought and the baby disappeared inside with a tiny ‘poof’. He laughed in delight as she dug him out, pushing the snow this way and that with his arms and legs. “Guess you are unharmed then? Laughing as mammu worries that the snow ate you?” She nibbled and blew against the skin of his stomach. He only continued to giggle as she tucked him back into the sling.

When she drew close to the house she saw they had a visitor. They sat wailing at the base of the tree. Obvious and out in the open. One moment the magic burned over the palm of her hand. And in the next moment she sent it away. For once she had taken a few more cautious steps closer she saw that it wasn’t a threat. It was a troll child, with grey-brown skin and bulging, rocky limbs. It was around the size of a small boulder but its snotty nose and tear stained cheeks revealed its age. The troll didn’t even hear her until she stood right in front of it. Whimpering, it whipped its nose across its arm before hiccupping towards her. “Are you da lady here? I got lost and can’t find my momma!”

“Which direction did you—“

“It’s cold out here and nothing to munch on and I gonna turn into a stone if the sun gets me!”

Hlaðagerðr sighed under her breath and had to keep from pinching the bridge of her nose. “Little one, you know that it’s day out now, right? The sun isn’t going to turn you to stone.” She realized as soon as she said it the words should have been gentler. The child wailed into his fists. From the sling Loki eyed the creature, not sure whether he liked the sounds or not. “Shh, no no. It’s not going to hurt you. You’ve probably been out for a while now and you haven’t turned to stone, right? You’re sitting here talking with me. Shall I bring you home?”

The shieldmaiden kept her flinch mental as the giant hand wrapped around hers. Not because it was a troll. Because his hand was wet and covered in snot. The troll-child calmed as they moved deeper into the woods. He had been lost for hours, after wanting to play in the snow when his mother said not to and running off from their cave. He hadn’t thought to find his own big footsteps and follow them back. Steinn was his name and she was the prettiest lady he had ever seen. Hlaðagerðr had to smile at that. The innocent troll-child with his dark brown eyes and smiling around the thumb in his mouth. She had to quietly remind him on a few occasions that while it was okay to look at the baby, he didn’t enjoy being poked. Once they were close it was easy to spot the troll-cave. Or rather, it wasn’t hard to hear them, a mother shouting orders and her husband and other children frantically running about looking for the youngest. Steinn gave a happy shout before running to her. The troll mother equally wept in relief and thrashed him on his stony behind for worrying her. “I found him near my home and help him back,” Hlaðagerðr explained as the trolls looked to her.

“Thank you,” the mother smiled, lips cracking, “He is too worrisome and curious, but he is a good baby.” The troll mother was comfortable with their visitor. The rest of the family, however, hovered nearby with uncertainty etched on their faces. They lived so deep in the woods to avoid humans, to be able to live in peace. That, and while they couldn’t pinpoint why they felt it, they knew she wasn’t human. “I’m not a baby! That’s a baby!” Steinn whined, pointing to the child in the shieldmaiden’s arms.

The troll mother growled and pushed her youngest into the home. He was swept up by brothers and sisters. Hlaðagerðr watched them silently. Trolls were always portrayed in tales as ugly and dumb. It was true their appearance was different. Their skin and hair was like the stones and moss, the earth and forest around them. Yet the troll family, at least this one, looked close and loving. The big father stroking Steinn’s head. The siblings hugging him close or pinching his cheeks. “So,” the mother asked quietly, “You are the little neighbors outside the wood?”

“Yes. It is just Loki and I. You will not have to worry about your family. I only wish to raise my son in peace, and quiet.” Hlaðagerðr did not have to be told to see the worry in the troll mother’s eyes. She worried that they had been found out. That she would have to uproot her family and hide even further away. That they would be hunted and hated like olden days. “Perhaps Loki and Steinn could play together, when he is older?”

The troll mother smiled in relief. She nodded. “I think I would like that. It’s always good to have a troll as a friend.” In her arms, Loki began to squirm. Perhaps he knew he was being spoken of. But the troll mother knew immediately when his little mouth began to bow and nuzzle at the breast. A shy look came over Hlaðagerðr. “He is hungry. Is there perhaps a little quiet corner where I could nurse him before we return home?”

“Of course.” The troll escorted Hlaðagerðr in the cleft in the rock that served as the doorway. The home inside was carved from the rock and the earth. Though a bit crowded between the numbers inside and the things trolls liked to gather, it was warm and homey. The troll mother drew up the smallest seat they had in a warm corner near the fire. She stood nearby to give the shieldmaiden privacy until Loki was tucked in her parted dress to suckle.

Despite the many children, all of them were suddenly near to watch the baby nurse. While they were not as big as the jotnar, most were still bigger or wider than Hlaðagerðr. They murmured at how tiny the baby was. Or how his eyes looked to his mother as he nursed. “Is he a sea troll?” One of the eldest daughters suddenly asked. “How come his skin is so blue?”

Hlaðagerðr shook her head. “No. He is not. He is a very tiny jotun.” She was cautious as she spoke, watching their faces. She had heard that sometimes, for whatever reasons, trolls could see through spells. She also did not know, in this time of Midgard, if they still knew of the jotun. The daughter pursed her lips. She pointed between the baby and the shieldmaiden’s paler skin as she spoke. “It’s not weird? That he doesn’t look like you, that a sapphire blue baby nurses at your pale breast?”

Hlaðagerðr looked down at her tiny son. The little eyes were slowly blinking. His little fist rested close to his fast as it usually did as he nursed. She could feel his little breathes and tiny heartbeats as he rested against her. The troll daughter didn’t have to ask anymore. She could see the love shining in their visitor’s eyes and smile.

“Pretty baby,” the troll father giggled. His wife thumped him on the head. “Don’t even think about ‘borrowing’ her baby. Now go get our children cleaned up for bed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -I've always been very interested in the sword that was placed in Fenrir's mouth in the sagas to keep his mouth open. When you read the story, _everything_ is named in the tale, _except_ for the sword. But the sword is never mentioned again even at Ragnarok when he kills Odin. While Hlaðagerðr didn't have anything to do with his binding, she remembered the sword and how prophecies say Fenrir and Odin will kill each other.
> 
> -Hlaðagerðr and Loki are currently in the Laplands of Finland, so trolls of Scandanavian folklore were featured. Their appearance and personalities are plays off how they're said to turn to stone in sunlight, be insanely ugly and dumb. It's been exaggerated a bit. 
> 
> -The use of a mother's hair as a protective talisman for a child is my own invention. I grew up with Grimm's fairytales told by my German grandfather, Rapunzel in particular since my hair was never really cut since I was born. I remember how traumatic it was for me when I caught headlice from another kid and it had to be cut. Then my mother heard on the radio later on about kids growing their hair out to cut to make wigs for other kids who wre sick/injured. I've been growing/donating my hair ever since, and I remember as a kid thinking it was magic, that my hair would be able to help and protect them. Looking back it was a bit silly, but it was something a child did and thought, and I wanted to incorpate that with Hlaðagerðr setting up things to protect her baby.


	4. Attack and Sickness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning for Animal Abuse
> 
> Loki and his mother are in Nunavut, Canada.
> 
> The chapter also gets a bit time skippy considering Loki's age if you are not paying attention. Then again, he's a bright child, so he's ahead of the curve.

By the time Loki was a few months old Hlaðagerðr had transferred the house to the tree in Nunavut. She needed to form the houses and build the groundwork for staying at each location so it would be ready at a moment’s notice. It was easier to do it now when Loki was so young. Later on, after they had lived and seen the various places, she would have Loki choose where he wanted to stay. There would be school and friends when the time came. She would never withhold them from him without his permission or option to choose. While Lapland had been familiar, its people and culture, Nunavut was different. There were many things for the young mother to learn and experience. The people were hesitant around her at first. And Hlaðagerðr came to learn that it was due to experiences of the past. They did not know her. But they knew what people with her appearance meant. It took time and respect, a genuine curiousity and willingness to learn for the Inuit to accept her living nearby.

Loki could support himself on his stomach now. He made little scooting motions forward that were predecessors to crawling. He would pull himself to a sitting position if he held his mother’s fingers and she gently helped him along. She’d have to prepare the house after much longer, or ‘baby proof’ it as the humans called it nowadays. “You’re going to get into everything. I can just see it. It’s just as well you do, my little babu. It’s curiousity and it is how we learn. Mother will be there just to make sure you are safe.” She continued to hum as she secured him into the pack. Loki was awake and alert now, having a restful nap while she wove at the loom. “Ready to go out?”

Hlaðagerðr slung Loki secure to her back as she left the house. She needed to hunt for fresh food for herself. She didn’t have a choice but to bring Loki as he was so young, and she refused to live him home alone. Even with all the wards and spells on their home and the tree overlooking it. Sometimes he would go back to sleep. Others he peered over her shoulder with eyes that were growing in their sight. He’d murmur little noises against her neck while playing with her slowly growing hair or the braid she had kept for him. “How about a bath when we get home?” Hlaðagerðr asked, breath coming in puffs on the air. She always spoke to Loki. “I could get some water from under the ice. And some little ice chunks for you to play with since you can sit up a little.” Loki babbled in reply. She wondered how long it would be before he started forming words together. Although he couldn’t form words he always seemed to try to make a reply when she spoke. He was growing up much too fast. She crunched along through the snow, smiling as he continued to coo.

The smile slid from her face as she spotted a great mound of black fur against the snow. The appearance and size was not a prey animal. It could only be a predator such as a bear. She hefted her spear into a more ready grip, forming spells just beneath her tongue. She could leave it be, as it did not seem to have cubs nearby or have even noticed her yet. Then again she could harvest the bear meat for food, claws for tools, and the fur for clothes or blankets. Yet as she inched closer the fur finally moved and made a sound. It did not growl. It whined softly. Hlaðagerðr continued forward and it was revealed not to be a bear at all. But a dog.

What was a dog doing all the way out here in the wilderness? The big black dog with bits of white at her chest and paw tips looked at her with big brown eyes. She was weak and in pain. Yet even in such a state she was weary. A collar dug into her neck, attached to a thick chain that was wrapped around a nearby tree. No footprints of man were in the snow, having been buried a time ago. Hlaðagerðr swallowed the rage building inside of her. The dog had been abandoned out here to die. Unable to fend for herself by hunting or protection since she was chained, it would be slow and suffering. And once Hlaðagerðr knelt in the snow near the dog she had a strong guess as to why. Her belly underneath the thick fur was round with puppies. “Shh, Mama Dog. It’s ok. I won’t hurt you.” She held her hand out for the dog to smell. She then tilted her shoulders forward to reveal Loki on her back. “I have a baby too. Just like the ones in your belly.”

Once she had the scent of Hlaðagerðr and the baby the dog seemed to relax. She whined once more before resting her giant head in the shieldmaiden’s lap. Hlaðagerðr spoke to her softly as she gently stroked it. By the look in the dog’s eyes and the way she laid herself, the shieldmaiden could tell that she was a gentle dog despite her size. She really was the size of a small bear almost. Once the dog grew comfortable with her touch Hlaðagerðr moved to the neck, and cursed. She had hoped to remove the collar itself, but could not. For it was too small for the dog and begun embedding itself in her neck. Whatever cruelty the dog had faced must have been going on for a while for the collar to do this. She followed the chain as close as she could get to the collar and severed it with her magic, throwing it away. “There, Mama Dog. You’re free now. Are you strong enough to walk?”

The dog stretched her head to smell the chain, as if proving to herself the heavy metal was gone. She lumbered to her feet. But she only managed a few shaky steps before she lowered herself back to the ground. All her energy was going to keeping the pups in her belly alive. “I’ll bring you back with us. It is warmer and out of the snow. There will be food, and I shall work on getting that collar off. Can you make it, just a little bit longer, while I make a sled?” The great dog rested in the snow as she worked. She had managed to get one meal, as Hlaðagerðr came across a deer skeleton as she worked around the area. Every ounce of meat was gone and many of the bones had been cracked open or chewed upon. Hlaðagerðr talked with both Loki and the dog as she worked, describing what she was doing as she constructed the sled out of branches and saplings. She would teach the skill to Loki when he was old enough since one could never know when they needed one. The shieldmaiden would have normally just slung the weak dog over her shoulders to carry it, but with the dog’s size and pups in her belly she did not want to risk it. It also proved useful to carry the two deer carcasses along with the dog that she hunted on the way back. One for herself and another for the dog since the shieldmaiden didn’t have a guess yet to how much the dog would eat. The dog slept on the ride home, probably the first truly restful sleep in a while for her.

Hlaðagerðr pulled the sleigh right up to the front door. She moved the deer to the colder, butchering room at the side of the house to work on later. Then she carried the big dog into the house and bedded her onto a fur she pulled near the fire. “There you are. Rest and warm up a bit to gain some strength. I’ll give Loki his bath and then one for you before I take that collar out.” The dog watched as she bathed the baby in his bucket. Loki shrieked happily as he splashed his arms in the water. His hands deftly chased ice chunks around before bringing them to his mouth to gum and suck on. He seemed to actually pout while his mother dried him then dressed him in his diaper and long shirt. Hlaðagerðr tucked her freezing fingers beneath her armpits to warm them as she leaned over Loki laying on the blanket. “Oh don’t make that face. You’ll have another soon enough. Knowing you, you’ll throw yourself in the dirt and mud just so you can have another when you’re older.” Loki only smiled up at her. He cooed as she kissed her forehead. The coos turned to laughter as she nuzzled and blew into his fluffy black hair, legs kicking in excitement.

She set Loki on his stomach with toys and interesting objects within and just out of reach on a blanket near her. He could push himself up and roll over between his stomach and back. The toys would keep him occupied, and she had seen that he was teaching himself to crawl after the things out of reach. She still kept an eye on him and talked aloud as she worked on the dog. Hlaðagerðr gave the dog great spoonfuls of a potion to help with the pain, made by soaking herbs from her storage in heated water. The dog showed patience and courage, never even growling as the shieldmaiden carefully cut apart the collar and slowly pulled it out of the skin. She carefully combed and shaved the hair away from the raw area so it would not grow into it. The worst was at the front of her neck where it had actually cut and left a wound. Hlaðagerðr cleaned it before healing the edges together with her magic. She didn’t want to have to put the dog through stitches. Finishing she wrapped it in bandages to keep it clean. The dog would need it for a few days while the neck healed.

“There we are. You’re such a good dog. Isn’t she Loki?” Hlaðagerðr let the dog’s head rest in her lap as she sat Loki on her free leg. Holding his colorful ball in one hand, Loki began to talk to the dog. He continued to babble as he looked up to his mother. His free hand pointed before burrowing into the soft fur. The dog did not seem to mind his clumsy movements. Her brown eyes were gentle. “She is a hundr, Loki, a dog or a hound. Although you still seem more like a bear than a hound to me. I’ll call you hundr until I either discover your name or give you a new one worthy of you.”

She kept water within reach of the dog to keep her hydrated. Boiling some of the venison she spoon feed the broth to give the dog strength. Later, when she knew the dog could handle the food without throwing up, she hand fed her well chopped raw meat. It was slow going. If she fed her too much, too fast, it would make her sick again. For it wasn’t just the dog that she needed to care for. Hlaðagerðr had been fearful at first that she had been too late for the pups. But laying her hands on the stomach revealed that puppies still wiggled and twitched within. And a fair number to boot. Hlaðagerðr moved her matress to the floor along with the inner box of Loki’s cradle so they would be next to the dog. Despite what had been done to her, despite every reason not to trust a two legged being ever again, the dog was snuggled next to her and Loki when she awoke the next morning.

With care and food, the dog recovered. Once she had the strength to walk she was constantly at Hlaðagerðr’s heels. She followed her from room to room, and sat at her feet or side when she stopped to work. For such a giant dog she was shockingly gently. Loki was utterly fascinated with her. He would scoot-crawl to her side or paws and bury his little face in the thick fur. The dog watched him intently. It had alarmed his mother at first, how the dog never took her eyes off him. Did she think that the tiny child was prey and something to eat? It turned out that she was only keeping a watchful eye on him like a guardian or babysitter. She would nudge him between her front legs against her chest. Or lay them on either side while he sat in front of her. Loki would babble at her or play with his toys. He would throw his ball or one of his toys to her, and the dog would gently return it to him with a soft mouth. Hlaðagerðr was soon comfortable with the knowledge that the dog would never hurt Loki. There was another set of eyes in the house to watch over him to keep him safe.

The dog whelped within a month. With Loki asleep in his cradle, Hlaðagerðr helped her deliver the puppies. The mother dog knew what to do. When the pup slipped out she licked them clean of the birth and nudged them to her belly. She allowed Hlaðagerðr to handle the pups, especially towards the end when she grew tired. There were eight pups in total, an even split with four girls and four boys. Some were mixed like their mothers, others black, and the rest all white. One, however, was smaller than the others. A runt. It might have been natural with so many pups in the belly. Or this one might not have been given enough time to recover from her mother’s time spent abandoned. She moved weakly and was often pushed aside at the nipple by her siblings. Even when the shieldmaiden won the pup one of the dog’s nipples she nursed sparingly. The mother dog was worried. The final straw was when the dog gently picked the pup up in her mouth and set her on Hlaðagerðr’s lap. “She’s going to need some extra help, isn’t she? Don’t worry, Mama Hundr. I’ll help her the best I can.”

The best way, the shieldmaiden discovered, was to wrap the she-pup in a blanket spelled to be warm. She would tuck her in her arm and feed her goat milk from one of Loki’s bottles. Often, she would nurse the pup on the bottle and Loki at her breast at the same time. It was not the mother dog or the puppies rejecting the runt. She just needed a little help. The mother would clean her and often nuzzle her to her belly when the rest were sleeping. And the puppies would tuck her in their pile when they slept or wiggle around her. The small pup just needed a little extra help. She was soon thriving with the others. But the shieldmaiden could not help noticing one development, and wondering if it was from her influence or happening naturally. Loki seemed drawn to that particular puppy. He would gently pet or lay down next to her if they were together on the floor. Sometimes he wouldn’t even suckle himself until he saw that the pup had her bottle. The pup also seemed to be drawn to him, wiggling to lay over his belly or whine at him if he moved away. Perhaps Loki had found a friend, or even a familiar that would help him control his magic until he was of age.

Soon the puppies’ eyes opened. And soon Hlaðagerðr had to worry about nine little ones crawling about the floor. She had to put gates in front of any stairs so Loki and the pups wouldn’t be able to crawl up or fall down them. Anything that she wanted intact had to be picked up from the floor. For if it wasn’t in Loki’s mouth it was chewed on by a pup. She made and placed a curved grate in front of the fireplace. It was a good a time as any to start teaching Loki about heat and fire. Until he was old enough to recognize it, to know that it was the opposite of his jotun nature, she feared he would hurt himself. “Hot,” she said as she sat Loki in front of the fire. “Hot” she said as she summoned fire in her hand for her son to see.

It wasn’t surprising that Loki’s first word was “hot”. “Hot,” he would say as she put another log on the fire for herself. “Hot,” he would point as she cooked or as she ate her food. When he crawled out into the snow, disappearing into great drifts with the dog and soon the puppies behind him, he would pop out with squeals of “not hot!” and snow in his black hair. Just as she referred to him as her babu, he called her mamu. By the time of his first birthday he was quickly learning small words, and tried to walk if she held him up. She wove him a new long shirt and made him hide booties for his feet when he did begin to walk.

One night, she sat on a fur on the floor with Loki in her lap and the dogs circled around him. She pointed to the mother dog. “What shall we name the mother dog, Mama Hundr?”

“Asa,” Loki replied. He babbled over the rest of the word. He was not yet able to speak it fully. “Ah, after Asgard then? Asa. That is a good name. Let’s name all of her puppies now.” Loki helped her pick out all the names. Middy, Alf, Svar, and Mu-Mu were the names for the male pups. And Vana, Hela, and Nida were the names for the female pups. Loki’s favorite, the pure white runt female that he swept up in his cubby arms, laughing as she licked his face, was named Jota. After Jotunheim. The shieldmaiden picked out names for the tiny herd of goats she kept in the corral beneath the tree. She had made rooms there to hold them in harsh weather and let them graze outside on the tundra grasses in the short summer-like months. There were also rooms sung from the tree that served as gardens, Hlaðagerðr’s magic helping them grow. The goats provided milk and the gardens food to supplement her hunting.

The food made her think of Loki’s future that night, laying in bed thinking of their trip into town the next day. Loki slept with her tonight, haven fallen asleep while suckling. Soon her would be walking and talking, eating solid food and growing up. She would teach him to write and to read. She would pass on all the knowledge she knew of the worlds, all of them. Most important of all she would teach him magic. He had shown signs all along since the day she had felt his magic in the temple. He would summon little sparks of it, floating above his hands or just out of reach. He would instinctively watch and try to touch the magics she shared with him. The forces in his body with flow with hers so that he would know what it felt like. “Your mamu is getting too far ahead of herself,” Hlaðagerðr whispered to her sleeping son, “I need to let you stay a little one as long as possible. But no matter how big you grow, you’ll always be my precious little one.”

~*~*~

The next day Hlaðagerðr bundled Loki and the puppies into the sled. After seeing how efficient the dog sleds of the locals were she had transformed her own sleigh to imitate them. Asa must have been used as a sled dog before, for she ready took to and enjoyed pulling it. On a previous trip to one of the towns, farther south that was big enough for a library, the shieldmaiden had tried looking up what kind of dog she was. As far as she could tell Asa was a mix between two breeds the humans called a Newfoundland and a Samoyed. The pups she suspected had a father of a different kind, however. Many of them were showing something like wolf characteristics. But Asa and the pups were kind and gentle, following behind the shieldmaiden and Loki like ducklings. Asa preferred to bodily stand between them and whatever she perceived as a threat. Most of the pups preferred to bark, with some bold enough to chase it. Granted, it was usually a hare or a snow owl. “Everyone ready back there?” Hlaðagerðr asked as she finished hooking Asa into the harness. Instead of standing on the back runners, she looped straps over her own shoulders and under her arms. With her strength and stamina she preferred to run in front with the dog. “Go!” Loki shouted, clapping his hands as they started to run. His was a blue face among the white and black furs around him. He and the pups would yip encouragement along the run. Or snuggle down into the sled for a nap. The spell on Loki’s appearance was still in place so that he would appear like a human child to anyone else. His naturally black hair remained the same, but his red eyes always seem to naturally appear emerald green under the spell, shining out from his pale skin.

When they were within sight of town, Hlaðagerðr stopped. The pups scurried out of the sleigh to bound beside her and their mother as she lifted Loki to her hip. She’d rather not have to explain how she had run pulling a sleigh with the help of a single dog. She usually parked the sleigh at the outskirts and allow the dogs to follow her as she visited, traded, or gathered some needed supplies. The locals were used to her now and her son. They were even used to the dogs, pointing to the large mother and calling her atiqpuq qimmiq, or bear-dog.

But Hlaðagerðr only had to set a foot into the border of the town to know that something was wrong. Debris was everyone. Screams and shouts rent the air. One of the young women, a new mother like her, came running as she saw Hlaðagerðr. Her arms were empty of her newborn daughter and tears stained her cheeks. “Get away! Akhlut has come and he has stolen all the children! He’ll eat your little miraaluk too!”

The shieldmaiden looked up the street just in time to see the side of a house explode. A giant wolf was the cause. His mad eyes looked over the village, of the people scrambling beneath him, a child in his mouth screaming for help. Hlaðagerðr never hesitated as he turned and took off for the sea. She knew of Akhlut from hearing tales from the elders here. He was an orca spirit that had the ability to change into a giant wolf to hunt on land. He was both dangerous and vicious, often hunting humans over other prey. If he made it back to the sea there would be no hope for the children. She set Loki down amidst the pups as she snatched up her spear. “Stay,” she commanded of her son, the pups, and the young mother as she took off with Asa at her heels.

There was no time to hide her abilities from the Inuit. She sprinted over the ice and snow, skirt kicking high above her knees at the speed. No earthly wolf could have kept up with her, even the snowmobiles some of the men had managed to jump on were left in the cloud she kicked up. Only Asa remained at her side. Akhlut glanced over his shoulder and sped on with alarm as he saw he was followed. Wolves suddenly appeared over the surface of the white ground, sprinting here and there in an attempt to cause confusion. She could hear the weapons of the men behind her desperately shooting at the illusions. Her violet eyes were kept firmly on Akhlut, the distinct black and white markings as his whale form shimmering under his fur. With the creature yards from the edge of the ice she leapt into the air and sent her spear flying. His howl of rage and despair let her know she hit her mark.

The giant wolf fell to his side, the child skidding to the ice. His body writhed in its death throes. She could almost taste the magic cracking the air as the fur and then the skin melted away. His form momentarily changed to that of an orca before that too dissipated. The bones collapsed to the ice and the swallowed children with them. They were unharmed despite their time in Akhlut’s belly. It only took a single distinct hum in the air for Hlaðagerðr to realize why he had not truly eaten the children. Qalupalik. Half a dozen faces of the human-like creatures bobbed in the water with their long hair and green skin. The one closest to the edge reached out with its long nailed hands and snatched the child up to try and put him into the pouch on its back. “Sœkja!” The command was barely past the shieldmaiden’s lips before Asa flew into the water and swam after the creatures. The sight of the great bear-like dog, and the spear wielding woman with burning eyes, was enough to frighten the qalupalik into giving up the pouches on their backs and fleeing. Asa caught the straps of the amautiit in her mouth and towed them back to shore, waiting until her mistress had pulled the rest of the children ashore before exiting the water herself. The children were safe and dry, and Hlaðagerðr herded them with the rest of the children well away from the sea.

Their parents fell on them, weeping and shouting with joy. Many had been close enough to witness the slaying of the orca-wolf and the dog scaring off the children snatchers. Hlaðagerðr was glad. All the children were unharmed, though a bit shook up from their ordeal. She found her friend’s newborn daughter still tucked in her own amauti and picked her up to return her to her mother. The shieldmaiden wasn’t well-versed enough in the traditional language to understand all the natives said to her. But she could recognize the thanks and even reverence as they smiled at her and touched her arms. “You are keen of eye to spot the real Akhlut and swift of foot to catch him. Is there anything to be done to thank you for the return of the children?” One of the elders asked.

The shieldmaiden nearly shook her head. Then she thought better of it. She looked over the bones of the creature still collapsed atop the ice. “If it is possible, I would like to take a single bone from his body.” It was allowed. After returning the girl to her mother, and helping the people start repairs to their town, Hlaðagerðr gathered her needed supplies and returned home. There she carved the bone from Akhlut’s body into both a bow and many arrowheads. She added it to the growing collection in her weapons room. Weapons for both her and Loki to use once he was old enough.

~*~*~

“Mamu, hot…”

Hlaðagerðr’s hands froze above her weaving. She looked to her side to see Loki standing at her seat, blanket clutched in his hand and rubbing at his eyes. It was the sound of his voice that alarmed her. Tired, in pain, ready to cry. He didn’t look well. Her son had seemed fine only an hour before when she had let him out to play in the deep snow with the dogs. “What’s wrong Loki?” She picked her toddling son to set him on her knee.

“Hot hot…” Loki whimpered and leaned against her. She could feel it radiating off his skin. He was burning up! She laid a hand across his forehead to feel it scorching with fever. Jotuns could catch fever? The fever that was already dangerous in any other child could only be worse for the ice people. The mother had to keep her voice calm as she cuddled him close. “Poor babu. You’re sick… Don’t worry, mamu will take care of you. How about a nice cold bath, some honey snow, and I’ll tell you stories in bed?”

The bath was more icy slush than water with the amount of snow and ice she piled in for Loki. But it was all melted by the time she pulled him out. She mixed some honey with fresh snow, sneaking in the pressed liquid of herbs to help bring his fever down. Wrapping her son in a blanket spelled to stay as cold as she could stand against her, she held him close and rocked him to sleep while telling his favorite stories. He truly felt sick, for he was fussy and nearly crying before he fell into a fitful sleep. Hlaðagerðr watched over him during the night. She kept a wet cloth wrapped around ice over his forehead and replaced it when it became too warm. She only dozed lightly, jerking awake when he whined or turned in his sleep.

By morning Loki was no better. The fever still raged in his tiny body. She kept him inside and quiet, doing dozens of things to keep him entertained. At some times he acted normal, playing and smiling and talking in his small vocabulary with her. At others she never he felt the fever. The shieldmaiden fed him a slush made out of a pure tea of the fever reducing herbs, sweetened with a little honey so he’d eat it. She also kept him hydrated and fed. But as she felt that burning forehead pressing her to her arm and chest as he suckled, she felt fear in her throat. She pressed her hand to her mouth as tears stung her eyes. What was making her little one so sick? How could she help him? She wasn’t a healer so she had no idea how to use her weak healing magics against a sickness as opposed to a wound.

That night she tucked Loki into his crib. Around him she packed as much snow as she could, underneath and all around him. Snow and a blanket around that until all that was visible was his little face. A fleeting idea of burying Loki in the snow under the freezing night outside crossed her mind. But how would she be able to watch over Loki? How would she know when he needed her? And how could she let him feel abandoned when he needed her? In the middle of the night, when the fire died out, Hlaðagerðr let it remain that way. She shepherded the dogs into the other rooms where they would be warmer. Asa’s brown eyes seemed to understand the shieldmaiden’s worry and blooming panic. Even little Jota worried over Loki, whining and stretching on her back legs to try to crawl in the cradle. The mother wrapped herself in furs as the room turned to ice, only allowing warming spells deep in the bundle for fear of it getting near Loki. Was any heat harmful to Loki? Was the heat of her body and the warm milk in her breast harming him as he tried to fight the fever?

So when Loki still had the fever by the next day she withdrew her heat from him. She did not touch him unless it was absolutely necessary. When he was hungry she fed him chilled goat milk from his bottle. But Loki could sense her fear. To his little mind not to have the hugs and kisses, the heartbeat and smell of his mother against him was wrong. Hlaðagerðr couldn’t bare his little cries. She couldn’t stand how his fingers reached out for her. So she tried to compromise. She froze her hands, keeping them as long as she could bare into snow and ice. Then she would lay her hands against him. Stroke his burning forehead or hold his little hands. When they warmed, between her own heat and his fever, she froze them again. Soon there was little feeling left in them. It was ignored. By that afternoon, when Loki had fallen into a nap, the shieldmaiden could take no more. Loki was sick and nothing she did seemed to help. Even if it meant risking their safety it would mean little if Loki perished. She buried him in new snow in his cradle box, and then set it on the floor.

Hlaðagerðr allowed Asa and the pups to return. They stayed by her as she knelt on the floor, holding Asa’s head in her hands. “I need you to guard Loki, Asa. Watch over him and the house. Allow no one, no one, in here except me. Even if you have to tear out their throat or smother them. I know the room is cold, but Loki is burning with fever, so don’t nest around him even if he cries for it. I’m going to get help… but if I don’t return…” She whispered the instructions in Asa’s ear. How to use the magic in the tree to take Loki and the pups back to the house in Finland. There she was to take Loki to the trolls. They were the only ones she trusted to be able to raise Loki without fear of what he was or could be. She hoped there would be no trouble where she was going, for Loki’s sake, but to rely solely on a peaceful solution was foolish.

Jotunheim had no reason to help someone of Asgard.

~*~*~

Mimir awakened the moment the woman entered the Well. He could hear her footstep reverberating in the ice beneath her. The giant jotun moved slowly from where he slumbered, from the icy sheets hanging from the roots of the World Tree. She was tiny. Just as her stride revealed her to be. A cloak was pulled tight around her body and a hood drawn low over her face. Any other jotun would have assumed she was of Asgard, crushed her, and confirmed it later. Mimir knew she was beforehand. And he knew exactly who she was as well. He had never heard of her before. He had never met her before. He knew in other ways. For Yggdrasil knew her.

“Mimir, Wise One.” She called out as she saw him. “I know I have no right to be here. But I beg you to listen to me. I need the help of your wisdom.”

Mimir studied her. “Why should I take the request of someone who hides their face before their potential benefactor? It seems like a spy, or an assassin, perhaps to begin the death of all knowledge. Does Odin wish to truly end us?”

“No!” She brushed away her hood, oddly using the back of her hands to do so. From her bright violet eyes and short hair, from the worry etched in her face and the scent of milk revealed many things. A _seiðkonur_ with a young child, still nursing. She was worried for her child. But it was not a worry that she would go to anyone about. While she was from Asgard, there was not a trace of the realm around her. She couldn’t go to them. But why come to a jotun? “I come to you as my own, as a mother. To beg you for the knowledge to save my little son. I found him at the end of the war, a runt orphaned and abandoned. He has been raised as my own since that day. But now he is sick. A fever runs through him that I cannot abate. I don’t know what to do. I long to hold him close and comfort him, but now I am afraid that my heat will harm him. Please, please. I don’t know what to do.”

By the end of her plea the _seiðkonur_ had fallen to her knees. Tears fell from her face, rolling down her cheeks to fall on the stiff hands. She couldn’t move them anymore. They were frozen in position, bright red in places and frostbitten in others. No lies were in her words. She truly loved the jotun child she had taken in as her own. Mimir dipped his hand into the Well and flicked the water at her. Her sobs stopped at the shock of it. She looked up to find that the ancient jotun was smiling gently at her. “Calm yourself, little mother. I am not so cruel as to condemn a child, and to refuse to help a mother who weeps her first tears for him alone.” She swallowed. How had he known? She had refused to cry, even when Ragnar had abandoned her. “He is a jotun child? How old is he?”

“Yes, he has the appearance, so he is at the very least half. I don’t know if his small size means he is simply small or has other blood. He’s just over a year.”

“And you said that he is sick with a fever? About how long as it been?”

“Two nights and drawing close to three days. I’ve tried ice baths and keeping him in snow. Cold water and milk when he’s hungry, trying to give him lots of rest…” She watched Mimir nod. One look on his face revealed it. “You know what this is?”

“Yes, little mother.” Mimir chuckled. “This sickness is rather common for jotun children. But I understand your fear, as outsiders wouldn’t know of it. It is called Heatersia, after the heat it creates. It usually effects babies and toddlers, though it can rarely effect those that are older. They will have a fever for a few days, simply an uncomfortable heat, and then when the fever breaks a rash of red bumps spread along their body starting at the belly. The bumps are simply there and can spread up the trunk to the arms and down to the legs. When the rash disappears the Heatersia is gone.”

“Then… then Loki is going to be okay?” Mimir watched the joy light up in the _seiðkonur’s_ eyes. She was truly relieved that her child would be okay. A jotun child that she had adopted and raised as her own. The jotun could see the love burning in her chest. “Yes. There was never any real danger. But you kept him comfortable, making the fever not so harsh with ice and snow. Your heat never hurt him; just as his ice never instinctively hurt you. He knows you are his mother. When you return, hold him close, because sometimes what is needed most in the world is the loving touch of another. Now, come.”

Hlaðagerðr looked on in confusion as Mimir motioned his hand to the water. He wanted her to approach. He had to chuckle at the sudden look of apprehension on her face. Then determination. She thought he wanted something in exchange for the knowledge of the illness. “I and the Well require nothing to help the child. However, in the case of your hands, the mere fact that you harmed them in the care of a child is more than enough. If any asks, for it would be true, say that you offered your first tears wept over your child to the Well.” He cradled her tiny hands at the edges of his and lowered them into the water. The healing powers swept over her hands, frozen and bitten by the ice she had used to help her child. Suddenly the flesh returned to normal. The deep ache faded to feeling. The fingers moved and the hands curled over the palm. Before she left, Mimir picked amongst the remnants of his smaller collection of books. “Here. Take this. It was written by one of your fellows, long ago in a time of better relationships. It was amongest the possessions of one of the soldiers from the war. Information on the birth, life, and maturing of a jotun would be helpful considering your son.”

It was more than she could have ever asked for. “Thank you, Wise Mimir.”

~*~*~

Loki was awake when she returned. He peered up from his snow packed cradle, cooing at Asa and the pups. His smiled broadened when she crouched over the box. “Mamu!” He reached up to her and she took him. Sleep had improved his being, and when she put her hand to his forehead she found it was not quite as hot. “Ah, the fever abates as Mimir said. See, now Mamu knows what it is and its not so scary any more. I can cuddle Loki my babu all I want without fear of burning you.” She tumbled into the bed, bouncing Loki up and down in her arms. She finally curled close as if to make up for the lost time. Loki seemed to be relieved as well. He firmly rooted one fist in her hair as he laid against her neck with his lips on her cheek. He talked and babbled in her ear. And Hlaðagerðr reveled in the sound of his voice. She smiled as she rubbed his tiny feet. Loki. Loki was going to be okay. Her precious baby boy wasn’t going to die. She turned and kissed his chubby cheek, before falling into the deep sleep she desperately needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Asa and her pups are named after the Nine Realms. 
> 
> "Sœkja!" The command shouted to Asa is Old Norse for, basically, fetch
> 
> The natives of Nunavut are largely Inuit, so influences drawn from them are:  
> -Akhlut. An orca spirit that comes out of the ocean and transforms into a wolf (or wolf-orca hybrid). A monsterous creature that hunts humans and land animals alike.  
> -Qalupalik. Human-like creatures that live in the sea. They have long hair, green skin, and long fingernails. They are said to steal children who wonder too close to the edge of the ice and make a distinct humming noise.  
> -amauti/amautiit. Pouches used to carry children
> 
> Heatersia is based off the real childhood illness of Roseola. Usually only babies/very young get it, but the little note in the story of older kids getting it is from my own experience. I caught it at 16 and man does it suck, because when the fever broke and I caught the rash I was wiped out for almost three days. Constantly tired even after I woke up from sleeping >__>


	5. Frost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATED 4/30/14
> 
> So, uh, I could have sworn I left a note here that this chapter wasn't complete/WIP. I had typed it up in free time at the university library then had to go to another class. Well, guess I didn't. Opps?

Hlaðagerðr woke with heavy eyes. She unburied herself from the nest of blankets and furs. She looked about, not sure at first what she was looking for. Then she realized. Loki. Her son. He had been with her when she had gone to sleep...

“See now. That’s the difference between being a Trickster and just being a plain muddlehead. But I think you’ll be a good and proper Trickster, won’t you?” A woman’s voice rang from the fireplace, cracking and old. Hlaðagerðr looked over to see a tiny woman, not even bigger than Loki, stirring a pot from her stance atop a chair. Loki leaned against it on his feet, listening as he gummed an icicle. The old woman looked over to the shieldmaiden and her face reminded her of a little mouse. “Ah, Good Mother is awake now. Don’t worry. I came to watch you while you slept, Akhlut-Slayer. And to visit your little trick-maker. I am Mouse Woman.

“Thank you, Grandmother. Hlaðagerðr yawned as she sat down at the table. Loki excitedly climbed in her lap and rained kisses on her cheeks. “Mamu awake! Love Mamu.” Mouse Woman served her meat porridge and freshly brewed tea. Asa and the pups soon tumbled in the door, the goats bleating at being herded back below to their pens. Asa pushed her head under Hlaðagerðr’s arm, as if assuring herself that her mistress was finally awake. Hlaðagerðr slipped her pieces of meat and set Loki in the tumble of fluffy puppies when he wanted down. Her heart did a strange fluttering in her chest to see him well again. He smiled and babbled, running about on his wobbling legs. There were only remnants of the red bumps now, disappearing just as Mimir said they would. “I thank you once more for watching over him. I did not know I would sleep so long.”

“Ach, you didn’t need me all that much. You awoke now and then to feed him, check up on him. And your magic is clever and strong. I just visited is all. Loki has such a delightful laugh.”

“Yes, he does.” Hlaðagerðr smiled as she watched him. They stayed in Nunavut a few more days to make sure they were both recovered. Mouse Woman, who could transform between a tiny grandmother and a mouse, visited them in that time. She was a narnuak, or a being half in and half out of the supernatural world. She loved tricks and pranks, but only the ‘proper’ kind, as she put it. She assured Hlaðagerðr that the sparkle in Loki’s eyes was proper and asked to call on them in the future.

While Hlaðagerðr had been planning to move to another location in the coming months, it happened sooner than expected. One of the villagers had let it slip what had happened, with Akhlut and who stopped him. Now outsiders were getting curious. Kesuk, her friend from the village, warned the shieldmaiden to disappear until the curiosity had passed. She bid her goodbye, and Loki kissed her newborn daughter on the cheek. “Bigger babu,” Loki smiled, hoping she would be big enough to play with when they returned.

~*~*~

Their next home was in Hokkaido. It turned out the land was a large island connected with a series of other islands to create the country of Japan. There were two people on the island so far north, the Japanese and the natives called the Ainu. There was an underlying tension between them that Hlaðagerðr could and yet could not understand. Many neighbors, while friendly enough when she introduced herself, seemed thankful that she supported herself and was not there to force herself on them.

She found the culture fascinating. Of course, some things were the same. And yet others were so vastly different. She’d never admit to learning how the patterns of the traditional clothes lay. And certainly not how cute Loki looked in a little kimono, blue with a white snowflake pattern. She finally broke down and got ne for herself. The kimono mater was just so nice, chatting with her as she suggested patterns and doing her curly hair up with little combs. She especially liked how good a little helper Loki was, squealing “kawaii!” whenever he smiled. That was how Hlaðagerðr found herself walking home in the new kimono, violet with pale plum blossoms, holding a painted umbrella against the snow in one hand. And Loki’s little hand in the other.

“We’re snow people today, mamu.” Loki beamed up at her. He didn’t care that his feet plunged through the snow above the wooden sandal-like shoes. Once out of sight his mother had switched to her bots. No matter how old he got, now going on three years, he still called her mamu.

“Yes, I believe we are, Loki. Shall I change into my cloak when we get home, and then we can continue working on the snow fort?”

“Let’s! I’m sure this time we can defeat the fluffy ones!” Loki swelled his chest. “Last night I found them trying to dig a tunnel inside!”

“We can’t have that.” Hlaðagerðr agreed. They had been building an ever expanding snow fort in the snow around the house. Their ‘foes’ were Asa and the pups, though not puppy sized anymore. The dogs would run behind the outer walls and then make runs at where Hlaðagerðr and Loki had secured themselves. They won if they managed to lick Loki and his mother.

“Mamu?” Loki suddenly asked in a whisper. He tugged at her hand and pointed with the other to direct her gaze. His finger led her out to the falling snow at something that floated back and forth with the flakes. “Who is that?”

The shieldmaiden could see a young man riding on a shepherd-like staff. His hair was white and his skin pale, his crafty eyes blue like the sky. He wore a hooded shirt kissed with frost. She smiled. “That’s Jack Frost, Loki. From my stories.”

“Oh! Hi Jack!” Loki shouted happily. They boy on the wind jumped as if startled. Then he crashed to the snow. Pushing himself up while shaking the snow off, he looked at them. “Wait, did he just call my name?”

“Sorry!” Loki apologized as he ran over, still holding his mother’s hand. “Didn’t man to make you fall…” Jack stared at the tiny offered hand. Then at the older woman who smiled softly down at him. “Wait. You can see me!? You can both see me?”

Hlaðagerðr nodded. Loki giggled, “Of course! You’re right here.” The boy wiggled closer and laid his hands on Jack’s cheeks. “See? Touch touch.” It was Hlaðagerðr who understood the shock in the boy’s face and words. She crouched down before him, arm around her son. “I tell Loki many tales and stories. A fair number are about you. Do most not see you?” Since moving to the realm of Midgard, the shieldmaiden had taken up the hobby of expanding her collection of stories. Loki was always hungry for them. While she knew a fair number from Asgard, her own mother, and traveling with Odin’s army, she found that Midgard had a myriad to offer. Loki had liked the ones of Jack Frost, the boy who brought winter with his frost, playing tricks outside the windows of houses.

“No,” Jack shook his head. “No one believes in me. So they can’t see me…” He looked ready to cry. He quickly wiped at his eyes to hide it. “You two are the first. A kid and an adult too…”

“Ah. I see now.” She stood. “You are welcome to come home with us. We live just over there between the hills. That is, if you don’t mind dogs. We have a few.” That was how Jack Frost came home with the shieldmaiden and her son. He walked atop the snow with his bare feet. It didn’t seem to bother him. His eyes were wide with fascination as he listened to Loki talk to him. About the snow fort and the nine dogs. About his favorite stories, snuggling with mom, and his new lessons in magic. The blue eyes grew even wider when Loki took his hand to drag him quicker towards the house, and frost spread over Jack’s hand. “You have ice powers too?”

“Yep! I like the cold.” Loki smiled up at his new friend. He held up his hands and magic swirled between them. A snowball formed, holding its texture and shape well. The boy threw it and Jota chased after it. Loki was not far behind his dog. Jack turned to Hlaðagerðr, who had changed to her usual clothes and cloak. “He can do ice magic like me!”

“Yes,” Hlaðagerðr confirmed. Though Jack was a virtual stranger, she knew at a glance she could trust him. Someone who so openly wore their fun and smiles couldn’t be bad. “Both Loki and I have magic, as he said. However, since he was born to an icy race, he is better at snow and ice right now…” She paused as a sudden thought came to her. “Would you consider helping me?”

“Hmm. With what?” Jack now delicately balanced on the curve of his staff. The pup-dogs eyed him. They sniffed at the staff, deciding whether or not it was a toy for them to chew on. With a flick of his hand Jack made a series of snowballs for them to chase.

“Teaching Loki his powers over ice, cold, and snow. I am skilled in magic. However it means I am not particularly strong in one field over another. I want Loki to be the greatest he can be, especially with the powers gifted to him by his people.”

“Sure,” Jack laughed, “that’d be cool.” The pups had switched to chasing Loki now that the snowballs were eaten. The young boy giggled as he disappeared into a high snowbank without leaving a hole. He eventually reappeared at the top, pulling his feet up as the dogs tried to get closer. Jota eventually managed to scramble her way up to her boy. They slid down the other side on their bellies, her barks mixed with his laughter.

“But… people… Ice People? Hey!” Jack leapt off his staff and floated in her gaze. “You said ice people, and they have magic like mine? Could I be one of them? That I got lost or something, and I ended up here?” The more he talked the more excited the Frost Spirit became. Loki ran over, wondering what the jumping was all about. Hlaðagerðr wasn’t sure, and it was difficult to ask with how animated Jack had become. But she cuddled Loki safely in her arms, and slowly lowered the spell that masked his true form. “I cannot say. Perhaps one of the Frost Giants was one of your parents. Has your body ever looked like this?”

Jack crouched, blue eyes widening at the boy’s new appearance. Hi skin was like solid blue ice deep under the sea. And his eyes were the red of an autumn leaf before he blew frost over it. He poked the boy and Loki poked him back with a grin. “Cool! But… nah. I’ve always looked just like this. Plain ol’ Jack Frost. No one sees me, anyway. So I guess I don’t know where I came from…”

Hlaðagerðr could hear it in his voice. Pain. Loneliness. Jack had been alone in the world, and for a long time. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help give you an answer. Knowing where we came from can be very important to a person’s heart.” She gazed down fondly at her son. “I’ve raised Loki since he was a newborn. He is my child, and I his mother, though there is no blood between us. But when he is old enough I will tell him where he came from, so he will never have to wonder. At least, it is better than never telling him, and leaving him to always wonder, to never know, to have suspicion his heart that could hurt…”

“Cause Mamu loves me~!” The little boy didn’t understand all that they were saying. But he could hear the warmth in her voice. And he could feel the love in her arms. She nuzzled his cheek and blew against it with a loud noise. Loki shrieked with laughter, and Jack could not help laughing with them. Jack spent the night with them. He seemed reluctant, almost afraid, to leave. Like if he did so, they would never see him again. All the things he had ever seen peeking in the windows of homes he could finally do. Sit down to eat with family. Play games after dinner. He scrunched his nose at bedtime.   Those were never fun, and parents who forced them were mean! But Loki seemed excited and Jack couldn’t help feeling a little of that feeling too.

“Cause bedtime means story time!” Loki explained as his mother tucked him in. “Big stories. Stories that make me laugh until my tummy hurts. Or stories until I get sleepy.” A little arm broke free of the blanket. The boy patted the bed next to him. “Or do you want to tell one? Do you know a story, Jack?”

Jack looked between the boy and his mother. She nodded with a smile on her face, sitting in a chair nearby to work on a finished woven cloth. Jack thought for a moment. Then, he grinned. “Ok. How about this one. Want to hear how I became friends with Wind, and how she travels everywhere with me now?” The grin grew wider as Loki nodded fiercely.

~*~*~

Jack Frost was soon a regular visitor at the house from the tree. Even later on in the years, as they moved from place to place, he’d always find them once winter came. He and Loki would disappear for grand adventures off in the snow. Building castles, fighting snowmen, running races with the sled dogs. He even taught Loki how to ice skate on his bare feet. As Hlaðagerðr thought, Jack was the better teacher when it came to Loki’s ice powers. Her magic came from spells, from knowing the words and runes. She could already tell, from when she had first taught her son about magic, that he would be more gifted than she was. He didn’t need spells or runes. It came to him as naturally as breathing. Jack was the same way with is gift over ice and frost. She’d watch them throwing snowballs or creating ice paths over water. Jack taught him through fun and play, even more than she did.

Jack didn’t expect what happened. He had just been so excited. He liked kids. They were so much better than adults. He liked watching them play. He wanted to see how happy they were outside having fun, or the joy of a sudden snow day. Parents were boring. They made you stay inside. Or get stuck in school. They didn’t make believe or play. At least, most of them didn’t once a kid wasn’t a baby or young anymore. Hlaðagerðr was different. She was often right there with them, sledding down huge hills or racing after birds that flew overhead. She tumbled and laughed, unafraid to get buried in the snow or Loki choose the game. She was a good mother to Loki.

And she kind of felt like she was his mother, too. At least, she threw him a birthday whenever he arrived at the first frost. And she wove him new pants and hooded sweaters. She listened to him, actually listened, and talked to Jack. All the things he had done and seen while he was gone. What he wanted to do with Loki the next day. How scared and lonely he was. How no else could see him. How the Man in the Moon never talked to him; just the once, to tell him his name. Even how the other people like him even ignored him for the most part. The ones called the Guardians. Well, except Sandy. Sandy was nice. Jack liked him and he always sent Loki good dreams.

Jack Frost just shrugged one day and figured that was that. He didn’t need the other Guardians. He didn’t need the Man in the Moon to talk to him. Maybe it would be nice if other kids saw him. But he always had Loki to play with. And he had Hlaðagerðr who was better than other mothers. That was what made him happy. That was what made him smile.

~*~*~

Hlaðagerðr hummed as she leaned back in the hot water. She had forgotten how nice hot springs could be after a long day. They were visiting the Shiga Highlands in the center of Japan’s main island. Jack had noticed a troop of monkeys one day flying overhead. Snow Monkeys, fluffy little things that survived in the cold when all other monkeys lived elsewhere. They had been following them all day, quietly trudging in the snow behind them to watch. Loki adored them, especially a little one that he named Hiro. He had ran and picked the little monkey up when he had gotten separated from his mother, and his calls were lost in the howling winter wind. The troop didn’t seem to mind, especially when their baby was returned to them. The Snow Monkeys had led them to the hot springs they used to survive the winters.

She could hear Jack and Loki splashing in the pool on the other side of the fence. It was fed by a mountain stream and thus icy cold. She could just imagine them swimming around, heads like ships above the ice.

“So, tell us the how it happened.”

The shieldmaiden opened her eyes to look at her companions in the hot spring. Two yokai, Yuki-Onna and Tsuru. They were friends of Jack Frost, fellow spirits he had met on his travels. “How what happened?” She wondered.

“You know.” Tsuru fluttered her hands excitedly. They looked like the wings of a crane like her other form. “How you got your little boy. So sweet. So precious.”

“Yes. Come now. Tell us!” Yuki-Onna leaned closer. Her blue lips curled in a delighted smile. Hlaðagerðr could understand why humans might fear that smile. “I know! You saw a couple walking up the mountains. In the snow. And one carried a beautiful baby. So beautiful that you just had to have him. So you froze them solid, and now he’s your own.”

“No no.” Tsuru puffed her cheeks. “It couldn’t be that. It must have been this way. A lady gave birth, but she was too haughty to appreciate her good baby. She saw your weaving, the fabric from your own plucked feathers, and just had to have it. You made her more and more fabric, demanding a higher price each time, to see where she would stop. But she didn’t stop, not even when she gave her baby in exchange!”

Hlaðagerðr smiled to hide her laughter. She shook her head. “It wasn’t anything like that. It’s not all that interesting. I simply found Loki, a little baby abandoned at the end of a war. I couldn’t leave him there. So I took him with me, and raised him as my own.” She shrugged. There wasn’t anything more to say.

Yuki-Onna and Tsuru exchanged glances. Then, they both smiled. “That’s a true story. We like that one even better.”

~*~*~

“I think I’ve come up with the perfect idea~” Hlaðagerðr whispered conspiratorially. They were seated around the table for Christmas Eve dinner: herself, Loki, and Jack Frost. Gifts were already delivered to the yokai as well as their friends among the Inuit and trolls. Jack and Loki shared glances, wondering why she whispered and leaned closer. She set her chopsticks down. Using the traditional utensils wasn’t going very well anyway. Especially since she was trying to learn how to knit at the same time, as evidenced by the handmade stockings with missed stitches above the fireplace, and both were frustrating. She waved them closer and dropped her voice even lower. “We should break into Santa’s workshop.”

“What!?” “Santa!” The boys exclaimed. The shieldmaiden shushed them, looking around as if the man were nearby. “Think about it! You’ve been trying to get in to see the workshop but haven’t. Loki could see all the toys and I could see if it’s done by magic. Tonight is the perfect night. Out of the whole year, when is the one time he’s gone? When will the elves have the night off?”

Realization slowly dawned on Jack’s face. Of course! Why hadn’t he thought of it before? “Tonight! North’s off delivering presents and it’s the one time the elves will get a break. They wouldn’t be in the workshop. Mum! You totally figured it out!”

“Santa’s workshop…” Loki’s eyes were already wide at the thought of it. They could go to the North Pole. They could play with all the toys! They could peek on the elves! Maybe he could even personally pick up the gift he had secretly asked Santa for his mother. “Let’s let’s!” He shimmied off his chair. “Come on! Hurry up, or he’ll be back ‘cause it might be morning!”

Hlaðagerðr set the house in order, dimming the lights so anyone who happened to pass would think them asleep. Asa bedded down her pets, though the dog had a look to her eye that she knew the adventure might not end well. The shieldmaiden dressed herself in her cloak and Loki in his own small one. Loki secure in one arm, she held on to Jack’s staff as he and Wind whisked them into the air. Between the wind and Hlaðagerðr stabilizing magic the flight went off without a hitch. Well, after the seidr user and her child stopped laughing excitedly. It was the first either of them had flown. Their exclamations turned to excited whispers, Jack unable to keep from grinning, as if they thought North could hear them if they were too loud.

The Northern Lights were dancing overhead as they landed at the North Pole. Loki eagerly took off for the workshop, a building set atop and also deep within the frozen faces of an ice cliff. For a brief moment, Hlaðagerðr hung back, her eyes cast upwards towards the rainbow colors. She did not look wistful. Nor did she look afraid. Jack wasn’t sure what that look was, what the expression on her face was as she watched it dance. Then, with a quick shake of her dead, a smile appeared and she pulled her hood over her face. The Yetis that Jack usually had to avoid on the perimeter were nowhere to be seen. With Loki riding on his back he led them through the tunnels that he had managed to make it to on his previous trips. At times they had to dive into shadows, pressed into cracks of ice when tiny creatures with tinkling bells on their hats ran past. They were barely past Loki’s knee. “Those are the elves,” Jack explained at Hlaðagerðr raised brow.

“They are… much different than the elves I was thinking of.” Then again, it explained why some of the stories on Midgard referred to elves as The Little Folk. Perhaps they were cousins? Or the name might have been a mistake, since both did have pointed ears. “They’re silly,” Loki grinned into Jack’s ear. “Can I bring one home?”

“I really wouldn’t recommend that,” Jack answered. He would have explained, but that was when one of the yetis appeared. He tucked himself and Loki into a high, dark corner of the hallway. He turned his head to have Wind do the same for Hlaðagerðr, but she had vanished. The yeti had nearly passed; they were nearly home free, when it suddenly paused right beneath them. Damn. He was so caught… again! Did it smell them or something? Loki was as still as a rabbit on his chest with his green eyes locked on the furry creature. Jack coiled his energy in his feet. The moment the yeti saw them he would spring away in a blur of white and blue. Then down the hall an elf dropped a huge platter of cookies after another poked their behind. The yeti threw up their hands and padded after them, grumbling under their breath. Jack mentally sighed in relief before flipping to the floor once the yeti was out of sight.

“We must be close. It will probably be in the center of the building...” Hlaðagerðr appeared next to him. Her now parted cloak settled back into place. It must have a spell on it or she had used her magic in it to make her disappear. Cool! They padded down the halls just like they were playing a game of keep away or hide and seek. But for once the yetis were nowhere in sight. And when they found the workshop, they knew they had found the Workshop.

“Oooo…” Each echoed the others’ amazement as they stared about the wide room. It was open in the middle, going up several floors. Ringing around it where workbenches and areas along the floors. Toys and gifts of every shape and size, type and color were resting on nearly every surface. They must be extra toys or things they were experimenting with. Perhaps even toys started for next year. Loki and Jack exchanged glances before shooting off in different directions. There would be no way that they would agree on what to play with first. So they were going to play with everything! Jack pushed a miniature hot air balloon off a railing and watch is it floated about on its own. Loki was immediately drawn to the brightly painted building blocks, neatly organized in trays by their shape and size.

Hlaðagerðr wandered around as well, touching and examining things that caught her eye. It was all rather revealing. While she had heard stories of Santa Claus from both Jack and the tales of Midgard, it was hard to imagine a man so dedicated to bringing delight to children. Many men on Asgard showed little interest in their own children until they were much older, nearly adults, and even sometimes only if they were a boy. She picked up a ragdoll tenderly, remembering the one her mother had made for her and repaired so many times that the last it had simply disintegrated. She heard her son call across the room to her and turned just in time to see both Loki and Jack disappear into a giant pile of stuffed animals, the toys bouncing as they came to life. She laughed quietly, then went to go look for the art section. With how quickly Loki was coordinating with his hands and expanding his vocabulary, she needed to get ideas for things for him to draw and write with.

~*~*~

It was strange. Very strange indeed. Why was family not home? Was supposed to be mommy and little boy, sleeping soundly with their many dogs. But North just saw the dogs. Was not so strange, perhaps. Traditions on Christmas Eve were different all over the world. They could be caroling, or attending a service. North shrugged and turned to the fireplace. Ah, how cute! Handmade knitted stockings hung in a row. Three in number, each with its own name and colored yarn. One for Hlað… Hlaðag… for Mamochka. Another for the malysh, Loki, a good little boy well in the Nice List. His mama had made him the biggest stocking. Then the third stocking, deep and icy blues, with the name Jack stitched across the hem. Nah. Could not be.

Well. Time to deliver presents then keep going. Many places to visit tonight. North reached into his bag, and remembered why he had personally entered the house. Yes. The gifts and the letters. He pulled out the letter from Loki to read it again. ‘ _Dear Mr. Santa Claus, My name is Loki and I am three years old. I can’t write yet, so my big brother is writing for me. I live in a big tree with Jota my dog, her mommy and siblings, and also my mamu. For Christmas, will you bring me a big present to surprise my mamu with? Something she will like. Mamu feeds me, tells me stories, takes me out in the snow, and makes my clothes! Since I’m little I can’t make a lot, so I hope you will help me. Oh, I know! Will you bring my mother a bracelet of little pretty flowers? I want mamu to know I like her hands. They make me feel happy and safe. Thank you for helping me. And have a Happy Christmas, Mr. Santa!_ ’

Yes. He was a very good boy. He didn’t even ask anything for himself. North had brought the bracelet Loki had asked for his mother, interlaced petals and delicate silver links. But he had also brought toys for Loki as well. Because all children needed toys, and especially the nice ones. He read the other note that had come from the same household. One from the mother. Adults rarely if ever wrote to him. Yet hers had made him pause long enough to read it. ‘ _To Santa Claus, I hope you don’t mind my addressing you directly by this letter. I am not originally from this realm so I know little about the protocol of a grown up asking something of you. If there is a payment or exchange you need, please inform me. I would like to ask a gift of you: a gift for my son. A great book, with its pages great blank expanses. The book would be filled with all the stories and tales I have ever told to Loki, as well as others I discover as we travel the world. I wish for him to always have them, even if I have whispered them in his ears since he was a tiny babe. Because I always want them to be with him even when the time comes I cannot be. Sincerely, Hlaðagerðr, Mother of Loki_.’

No. Was not mist in his eyes. He was just allergic to dogs. A child asking a present for his mother. A mother asking a present for her child. And it was such a beautiful request as well. So he had personally made the book, a huge volume of soft white pages and bound with decorated leather. Good pens to write with, excellent pencils and paints to illustrate the stories with. He placed them within the stockings, left ribboned bones for all the dogs, and bales of clover for the milk goats before he went back to his sleigh to finish his night.

~*~*~

“Run!!!”

It had started with a robot. A toy robot painted a bright blue, just out of reach of Loki’s fingers until he stood on his tiptoes. He easily found the switch and set it to the floor. The robot came to life to march back and forth, Loki then Jack falling in to march behind him. However, the robot had run into the great pyramid of robots that was standing nearby. The pyramid fell over with a thundering cacophony. It also meant that all of the switches on the robots were activated. They were swarming over the workshop now clunking and buzzing their merry way. Hlaðagerðr yelped and pulled the boys to stand up on the rail with her. Grunts came from down the halls just as a clatter of hooves rained over the roof. “North’s back!” Jack said, glancing up at the ceiling. “Probably a good time to skedaddle.”

Hlaðagerðr couldn’t agree more. She had fought bigger and tougher creatures than the yetis, but doing so would probably get them into further trouble. Besides there was an awful lot of them spilling out of the hallways into the workshop. She nodded downwards and the two of them leapt downwards. Loki thought it was all great fun as he called out what the yetis were doing as they followed them. He would wiggle his fingers over his mother’s shoulders and make it snow, or make the floors icier than before. A large, white bearded man soon at the head of the column, cursing profusely in Jack’s direction. Jack bounced between the thrills of laughter and dodging things thrown at them to get the intruders to stop.

The shieldmaiden knew the moment they stepped in the hallway that it was a tunnel out of the workshop. A giant slay was in front of them with reindeer still pawing in their harnesses. Now here was an escape route. “In the sleigh!” Passing Loki to Jack’s safe arms she took a wide stance at the front and snatched up the reins. She snapped them over the reindeers’ backs with a command to start running. The faces of the boys were wide with delight as the sleigh shot off down the tunnel. And the face of the large man was annoyed as the sleigh sped by just out of reach.

“Hold on!” The tunnel rapidly fell downward until it was more like a slide. The sleigh picked up speed as the tunnel twisted and looped. What was this grin spreading across her face? Thrill? Excitement? She could hear Jack laughing and Loki begging her to go faster. The tunnel eventually shot them out into the air. They hung for a moment… then the magic in the sleigh and in the reindeer caught hold as they bounded off into the air. “You two still with me back there?”

Hlaðagerðr glanced over her shoulder. Jack was leaning over the side of the sleigh to see the snowy hills speeding away below them. Loki was safely in the middle of the sleigh. His little fingers gripped the seat but his head was thrown back so his black hair danced in the wind. Stars shone in the night sky now, along with the full pale face of the moon-- “Whoa!” She yanked on the reigns in a desperate attempt to halt the sleigh or turn its course. A tiny, golden man was floating in the air directly in their path. His little arms were bent over his chest and a cross look was on his face. Or rather, he was trying to appear so. His face was warm and pleasant even as he held up his hand as the sleigh stopped in front of him.

“Hi Sandy!” Jack greeted the little man as he rested his chin on Hlaðagerðr’s shoulder. The little golden man, Sandy, smiled at him. He seemed to brighten as Loki, now that the sleigh was still, carefully made his way to the front railing. “Sandy? Are you really the Sandman?” Sandy nodded. He floated close until he was on Loki’s level. He waved hello before stretching out his hand. In the palm of his hand golden sand suddenly whirled into existence. It twisted and curved through delicate shapes until it was the form of a sleek cat. Loki clapped, especially when the cat bounded through the air around him.

“Good job Sandy! You stop them. Bring them down here!” The man was now far below them on the ground. He glared up at them, one hand curled into a fist that he shook at them. He didn’t sound entirely angry, but not exactly pleased either. By the time the sleigh landed his hands were on his hips. “Jack Frost! Should have known it was you… But who is this!?” He looked between the child and the woman that were in the sleigh with Jack. “Little Loki and Big Mamochka? You broke into my workshop?”

“Just for a little while. We didn’t take anything, just looked and played. It was a lot of fun!” Loki spoke before anyone could stop him. He looked up at North with big green eyes. “I did knock over your metal men…”

“Still, was very naughty!” North crossed his arms over his chest. The sleeves pulled away from his forearms to reveal the intricate tattoos there. Naughty on one arm. Nice on the other. Hlaðagerðr’s mouth open then closed in a grin. Just like the stories! That was a nice touch. She would have never thought the lists would be on his arms. “And you,” he was suddenly talking to the shieldmaiden, “supposed to be parent. Not sneaking around with baby. But… wait… you have magic too? Yes… see it clearer now…”

Hlaðagerðr only raised an eyebrow. He seemed to bounce between a jolly, curious man and a gruff warrior with a thought. Jack scooped up Loki and snuggled his face next to his. “Aw, come on North. It was just good fun! You can’t call Loki naughty. Just look at this face!” Jack made an innocent face, batting his eyes at North. Without even turning to look Loki imitated him, eyes wide and mouth in a little pout. The shieldmaiden had to turn away to hide her laugh. North didn’t even try to. He laughed a loud, booming laugh from deep in his belly.

“Well, can’t keep Loki on naughty list. I know everybody loves the sleigh. But Jack? You still hold record of Naughtiness.” North took the reins and motioned them back in the sleigh. “Now we go back, and have cocoa with cookies. Then you get real tour of workshop, yeah?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Mouse Woman is also from native culture. However, I need to point out that she's out of Haida culture from British Columbia (and not Inuit/Nunavut where the story takes place). There's a trilogy of books on her that are quite good. Also where I got the term muddlehead from XD
> 
> -This Jack Frost, North, and Sandy are from William Joyce's Rise of the Guardians (movie) and Guardians of Childhood (book series). Those are my alltime favorite kids books/movie and couldn't pass up the chance.  
> -Mamochka 'mother' and malysh 'baby boy' in Russian
> 
> -Yuki-Onna and Tsuru are yokai in Japanese folktales. Yuki-Onna familiar as a, mostly, harsher snow spirit that freezes people. One aspect of the story is that she appears in the snow with a child in her arms. Tsuru is the Crane Woman from "Tsuru no Ongaeshi" and "Tsuru Nyobo", a crane who turns into a woman and weaves beautiful cloth from her plucked feathers.


End file.
